


Blessed Be Our Ever After

by RationalCashew



Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2019-08-28 14:17:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 42
Words: 105,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16725003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RationalCashew/pseuds/RationalCashew
Summary: Raising their son. Fighting their demons.AU-ish. Trying to keep them in-character and keep it as canon as possible. Except, they didn't give up William and they got married. Picks up post-IWTB but Pre-revival. Will go through the revival.





	1. In Shallow Seas We Sail

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR THANKS to Kyouryokusenshi and SlippinMickeys (go check out their stuff!) for going over this for me! You two are amazing!
> 
> Story notes: starts off on the precipice of the separation (I know, I know...). post-IWTB, pre-revival and goes through the revival (maybe further, we'll see). Not sure how long it'll be.

Anxiety. Frustration. Depression. Anger.

All things Dana Scully felt on a regular basis. This time, however, none of it belonged to her. She let the web of emotion guide her toward the bathroom.

“Damn it!” came a growl of frustration as she reached the open door. Her fourteen-year-old son stood in front of the mirror. He ripped the bright red fabric from around his neck and proceeded to begin again.

“Language,” she warned. He sighed and mumbled some sort of apology. The anxiety emanated from him. She wasn’t sure how he was dealing with it; the complexity of it made her dizzy. “Will, relax.”

“I can’t relax,” he replied curtly without taking his eyes off of the mirror. “I haven’t been able to relax for two weeks.” He let out a sigh. “I need this, Mom.” Finally getting the tie right, he faced her. “How do I look?”

Scully entered the bathroom and took stock of him. Black button-down shirt, untucked. Grey jeans. White Converse. Crooked bright red tie.

“You look good,” she replied, walking toward him with a smile. She reached out to fix his tie the way she had done his father’s for years. William, unlike Mulder, didn’t fight her on it. He, instead, seemed to welcome the help. “You’ll get in, Will.”

He let out a defeated breath. “What if I don’t?”

“Then, we’ll find another -.”

“There’s not another conservatory that takes people my age. Not a good one anyway.” He looked at the mirror and fussed with his spiky hair for a moment before saying what his mother already knew he was thinking, “If this interview doesn’t go right…”

“You’ll get in,” she said, confident in her words, willing him to relax a little. He seemed to pick up on it because he let out a heavy breath and nodded. “Now, come on. We don’t want to be late.”

“I gotta grab my jacket and music. I’ll meet you at the car.”

He shut off the light as he followed her out of the bathroom and went down the opposite end of the hall to his bedroom.

 

Downstairs, Scully peeked into Mulder’s office. As per usual, he was cutting out a newspaper clipping, completely unaware of what was happening in the rest of the house.

“Mulder.”

“Yeah?” he replied over his shoulder. When she didn’t respond, he spun around in his chair. “What’s up?”

“We’re headed out. I thought you might want to wish him luck.”

He nodded in such a way that she knew he had no idea what she was talking about. “Will’s audition and interview.” Again, a blank stare. “For the conservatory.”

A lightbulb seemed to flick on in his head.

“That’s _today_?”

She must have made a face because Mulder stood up and headed toward her, giving her a quick kiss to the lips on his way out of the room. She let out a sigh in time to hear their teenaged son barreling down the stairs.

“Big day,” Mulder said as Scully joined her boys. “You ready?”

She could feel Will’s apprehension. He seemed to know that his father had forgotten what he’d been calling “the single most important day of his life” since he got the letter informing him of his audition.

“Yeah,” was the only response Will offered.

“You’ll be great,” Mulder offered. At least, Scully thought, he was pretending to care well enough. “Knock ‘em dead.”

Will ignored his father and faced her. “Ready?”

She smiled. “Let’s go.”

Will walked by her and out the door. She shot a glance at her husband. He returned a guilty one.

This was getting old.

* * *

 

Will’s leg bounced up and down anxiously. He didn’t seem to notice. Scully placed her hand on his knee. He looked up and yanked an ear bud out of his ear.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Calm down.”

He sighed and slumped into the chair. “This person is Juilliard trained, Mom.” She rubbed his back. “Is this what it’s like waiting to hear back about college? ‘Cause, if it is, I might skip college.”

“You’re not skipping college,” she retorted. “But, yeah, I guess it is. In a way.”

He sighed a loud, frustrated sigh and buried his face in his hands. “I thought they had laws against this,” came his muffled response.

“Laws against what?”

“Torture. Cruel and unusual punishment.” He looked up at her.

“You’re being dramatic,” Scully replied, chuckling.

“Am I, though?” he challenged with a smirk.

Before she could answer, a door opened. A woman stepped out from behind it, holding a clipboard.

“William Mulder?”

“Will,” her son said, jumping to his feet and, somehow, simultaneously shoving his iPhone and earbuds into the pocket of his hoodie-jacket.

She introduced herself, exchanged pleasantries with the other woman, and watched Will disappear behind the door.

Once the door clicked behind them, Scully pulled one of the patient files from her bag. 

* * *

 

The sound of someone barging in snapped Mulder’s attention away from the TV. He looked up in time to see his wife sigh as his son stomped his way up the stairs.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know,” she confessed. “He won’t talk about it.”

“Did he not get in?”

“He doesn’t seem to think so. He’ll know for sure in a few weeks.”

* * *

 

Mulder knocked softly on his son’s cracked door. Will was lying on his bed, ear buds in his ears, and a book in his hand. While this was a common sight to see, he didn’t appear to actually be reading but, instead, staring at the words on the page.

“Can I come in?” he asked. Will didn’t respond. Cautiously, Mulder made his way over and sat on the edge of the bed. “What happened?”

“I didn’t get in.”

“That’s not what Mom said.”

Will scoffed. “Mom doesn’t know anything about music.” He sat up and set the book beside him on the bed. “I’m mediocre at best.”

“They said that?” Mulder asked in complete surprise. Will had a gift; he’d seen it the first time his son ever touched a piano.

“They said that I’ve been allowed to get away with too many bad habits and a poor technique and that whoever was training me did me a disservice by not correcting me.” He ran a hand through his spiked hair. “If I get in, and I don’t think I will, based on today, it’ll be because I have spirit when I play.”

The way Will mentioned having spirit wasn’t lost on Mulder. Sarcasm had become his son’s default setting.

“That’s a good thing!”

“All that means is that I don’t just follow notes on a page. It doesn’t say anything about my skill, my technique, my posture…”

“Don’t give up on your dream, Will.”

Will scoffed. “I live in a state of musical mediocrity.”

“So, practice. Take what they said and work on it. Get better.” Mulder grinned. “Prove ‘em wrong.”

“I don’t know if I can!” Will protested. “I don’t know what the problem is, specifically. I mean, God, they made a point to tell me that if I’m not playing properly by age eight, I probably won’t break these habits.”

“You can.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’ve never seen anyone so devoted to their passion.” Mulder hesitated before continuing. Scully had mentioned once before that William had inherited that trait from him. “The first time you touched a piano, you were three. I’ve never seen anyone pulled to something like that. You climbed on the bench and started playing.” Will arched a skeptical eyebrow and Mulder chuckled. “I didn’t say it would get you into Juilliard. But, it wasn’t like a normal toddler banging on the keys. You heard something, something only you could hear. And, you haven’t stopped since.”

He watched as Will processed his words. His son glanced to the electric piano across the room.

“Don’t take no for answer, Will.”

* * *

 

Scully stood outside the door, fighting back tears. It had been a long time since she’d heard Mulder care about anything more than the newspaper clippings that sat on his desk downstairs. They’d been struggling for long time now between her son’s spurts of anger, her husband’s depression and refusal to medicate or see someone, and her exhaustion. This felt like the breath of fresh air that all of them were craving.

Leaving them to their conversation, she proceeded back downstairs.


	2. Pilots and Paper Planes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know. But, I did warn you in the last chapter where the story starts and that I was trying to keep it as close to canon as I can. This was inevitable.
> 
> I won't normally be posting every day. Monday I walk into final projects starting to be due, followed by final exams. Yay University! But, I'm hoping to post one or two a week for the remainder of the semester.

“What…in the hell…are you wearing?” Will asked, emphasizing every word. Mulder looked down at himself and then back to his son.

“I’m going squatchin’,” he replied matter-of-factly. “Want to come?”

William shot a look to his mother and then back to him. “Hard pass,” he said slowly before proceeding to the fridge.

“Oh, come on. The two Mulder men, the great outdoors… It’ll be fun.”

His son looked up from digging in the fridge with a stupefied look of disbelief on his face.

“How does walking around the woods in a botched Chewbacca costume, listening to you make dying cat noises all day _possibly_ translate into fun?”

“You heard the part about the Mulder men and the great outdoors, right?”

“You remember what happened the last time I went out into the woods with you, right?” The teenager deadpanned, matching his father’s tone.

“You had a good time?”

“I fell in a hole!” Mulder caught his wife’s smirk. 

“That happened one time.”

“ _You dug the hole_!”

“Okay, fine. But, you’re missing out,” Mulder said, attempting to entice him. His son’s face showed that it wasn’t working.

“Duly noted,” Will retorted over the fridge door.

“Scul-?”

“No,” she replied without giving him a chance to ask. She took a sip of her coffee.

William sighed. “Is there seriously no food in this house?”

“There’s plenty of food in this house,” Scully retorted.

“Nothing that will sustain me until you get home. I have a long day of practicing ahead of me.”

“Make a pop tart,” Mulder offered. His wife and son shot him the same look. He shrugged and grabbed his mask off the table before proceeding outside.

 

 

Scully watched as Mulder made his way outside. She had to give him points for effort. Ever since Will’s audition for the conservatory a couple of days ago, he’d been more attentive. Not much more, but enough to cause their son to relax.

Things between the two of them were still rocky, though. They barely spoke. Will seemed to notice it, too, because every now and again, he’d give her a look and she could almost hear what he was thinking about the subject. She let out a sigh and looked at the clock on the stove. She needed to get to the hospital. There’d be plenty of considering to do later.

She kissed her son goodbye, which only caused her to receive a concerned look from him, and then left for work.

 

* * *

 

“Jesus, Mulder!” his mother’s frustrated voice carried up the stairs through his open door. His father attempted to shush her, which only seemed to make things worse. Will pulled the guard over the keys and sat on the piano bench for a moment.

It was the first time he’d heard them fight in a long time. Not that they hadn’t gone through a period of fighting nearly every day a while ago but, for the last couple of months, they rarely spoke to each other. Unless, of course, they were talking about him or making dinner plans.

He’d thought things were getting better. Maybe, Will considered, it was only _his_ relationship with his father that was getting better. Will exhaled a sigh. He couldn’t listen to this.

He grabbed a book from his desk, threw in his ear buds, and flopped on the bed.

 

* * *

 

Scully entered her son’s room, her stomach in knots. She found him lying on his bed, engrossed in a book. He looked over the top of it and then back down at the page.

“What are you reading?” she asked.

Will shot her a look that clearly told her he wasn’t going to play whatever game she was trying to play. Truth be told, she didn’t know what that game was; she was only hoping it would buy her some time to form the right words.

“What’s wrong?” he asked in that knowing tone of his. He always knew. It was uncanny. Ever since he was a small child, they’d been able to read each other.

She’d often heard his voice in her head. Usually, it was when he was scared and more often when he was little as opposed to now. Still, she was never sure whether or not to be grateful for that.

She could feel his anxiety. William’s eyes begged for answers to questions that he refused to ask.

“We’re going to stay with Grandma for a few days,” she said, softly.

“Is she sick or something?” he asked, but Scully knew that Will knew that wasn’t the case.

“No, she’s fine. We’re just going to spend a few –.”

“Don’t lie to me,” he interrupted curtly. “What’s going on?”

She let out another sigh. How was she supposed to tell her son that she just needed to get away from his father for awhile?

“Dad.” There was that tone again mixed with a sadness in his voice that broke her heart. He cleared his throat. “So, how long are we going to be gone?”

“Just a few days.” He only nodded in response. “Pack a few things, okay?”

Again, William only nodded. She wanted to tell him that she was sorry but, she could feel it that, right now, he wouldn’t believe her.

When she’d taken him to lunch the other day, he’d asked her about it. He seemed to know what she was thinking. She’d lied to him, but he knew that, too. She’d told him then that everything was okay. Right now, she didn’t have the resolve to lie to him again.

 

* * *

 

A loud crack sounded as the baseball collided with the bat. Mulder felt a twinge of pride as Will rounded first base and proceeded to second, barely making it in time to secure a “safe!” from the umpire. He hadn’t realized how fast his son had gotten.

Like the rest of the crowd, Mulder cheered on his son. For a freshman baseball game, the audience was rather enthusiastic. This, according to Will, had been one of the school’s better seasons and if he kept playing like he was, he’d have the chance to play on the varsity team the following spring. No, Mulder couldn’t help but to be proud.

Will worked hard at everything he did. Too hard, sometimes.

The rest of the game flew by and Mulder found himself waiting outside the fieldhouse. William’s eyes lit up when he noticed Mulder standing there and quickened his pace, despite the resistance from the equipment he carried.

“Great game, bud!”

Will arched his eyebrow in that inherited Scully way. “We lost.”

“By two runs because they got lucky. Don’t think I didn’t see you hit two doubles _and_ strike out three players in a row.” Will grinned sheepishly.

“I think my fastball is still too slow,” he replied. Mulder hated that his son had inherited his self-deprecation.

“We can work on that.” He took the equipment bag from Will, noting that it felt like a couple of bats had been added to the mix. “Hungry? I was thinking about picking up a pizza before we head home.”

“I’m a growing boy, Dad; I’m always hungry.”

Mulder laughed, put his arm around his son, and they made their way to the vehicle.

 

* * *

 

“Can I ask you something?” Will asked, setting the paper plate on the coffee table.

“Yeah,” Mulder replied, dreading whatever question would come out of his son’s mouth. He had the sinking feeling that it was about he and Scully. He had no way of answering anything on that subject.

“What are we watching?”

Mulder laughed, thankful he hadn’t taken a sip of beer, yet.

“I’m not really sure,” he confessed, still chuckling.

“How do you feel about picking something else?”

“Go for it.”

Will rose from the couch. He returned a couple minutes later with another can of Mountain Dew and three movies.

“Your mother’s going to kill me if she finds out how much of that you’ve had tonight.”

“It was her choice not to be here,” Will blurted. An awkward silence descended in the living room. “Um… so, I grabbed three.” Will held up the first movie. “First up: The Lazarus Bowl. Classically terrible in every way and, yet, makes for a good laugh.” He held up the second movie. “Sweeney Todd. Serial killing barber taking revenge on Victorian London and feeding his victims to the unsuspecting citizens in the form of meat pies.” Will shrugged. “Warning: it is a musical but, it’s good.” Will laughed. “Don’t look so disturbed. You’ve told me crazier stories.”

“Name one thing I’ve told you that rivals _that_ ,” Mulder retorted, pointing at the DVD in his son’s hand.

“Liver eating mutant.”

Eugene Tooms. Mulder had forgotten that he’d told that story to William. Scully would murder him if she ever found out that he’d used some of their cases as William’s bedtime stories when she was working overnight or at some seminar.

“Finally,” Will said. “Drumroll, please.” Mulder only blinked. “Okay, no drumroll.” He held up the third movie. “The Fast and the Furious. The first one, not to be confused with the fourth one which, for some stupid reason, has the same name. Cop goes undercover in a street racing gang. Surprisingly better than it sounds.”

“I’m noticing a glaring lack of Plan 9 From Outer Space,” Mulder said.

“There’s a reason for that,” Will retorted matter-of-factly.

“It’s a classic!” Mulder defended.

“Yeah, a classic bore. You are aware that it currently holds the title of Worst Movie Ever Made, right?”

Mulder frowned and pointed to the movie in Will’s hand. “That one.”

It was far from becoming one of Mulder’s favorite movies, but he had to admit that it was better than a cannibalistic English barber. He’d seen too much during his time on the X-Files to watch one play out in song. And, there was no way in hell he was going to watch _The Lazarus Bowl._

He glanced to Will only to find that he’d completely passed out. Mulder half-considered turning off the TV but, years of parenting had taught him that his son had an uncanny ability to wake just as that happened. Every. Single. Time.

Mulder knew the boy needed his sleep. Scully had mentioned that he wasn’t sleeping much. Turning off the TV would only be conducive to the developing insomnia.

When the movie was over, Mulder woke William and sent him upstairs to bed.

He, on the other hand, remained downstairs. Mulder hadn’t been able to bring himself to sleep in their room. Not without his wife. He couldn’t handle Scully’s scent on the pillow next to his or the cold sheets where she should be; he couldn’t handle that so many of her things were still in there, reminding him of his failure as a husband.

With a sigh, he went upstairs long enough to grab the blanket and pillow he’d been using and to change his clothes before returning to another night on the couch.

He’d slept there every night since Scully had gone to her mother’s. Every night, the walls threatened to play back every secret they held. Some nights, he caught himself willing them to do so. It might give him some clue as to exactly where everything went wrong, some place to start fixing it.

But, they never did and he’d fall asleep replaying the moment she told him she needed to sort out some things and that she was going to her mother’s to do it.

A few days.

That was what she’d said. She needed to sort out some things and would be spending _a few days_ with her mother. But, “a few days” turned into twenty-three days.

He ached to have them _home_. The silence had grown deafening. He missed hearing Will on his piano every day. He missed Scully’s voice and her stupid TV programs.

He missed his family.


	3. There's No Mathematics to Love and Loss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so this is probably the last update for a couple days. Tomorrow, I walk into three weeks of finals crap for school. Yay for University. As I've said, I'm going to TRY to post a couple times a week while I'm dealing with finals but, I can't promise anything. 
> 
> Also, for those of you who have asked: yes, I am on Twitter. @catebatman Follow at your own risk. and, if you're interested, I do have a couple X-Files fan vids up on youtube. http://www.youtube.com/catebatman

A melancholy melody permeated her house. It wasn’t the piece he’d been practicing for the audition at the conservatory, the piece that he’d been playing constantly even after it. This was the sound of her grandson pouring his soul into the piano. It didn’t take someone with an advanced degree in psychology to see that whatever was happening between Dana and Fox was having an even more adverse effect on their child. But, Maggie held her tongue. She’d been told, in no uncertain terms, by her daughter that “they” just needed time and space to sort things out.

By “they,” she knew that Dana had been referring to herself and her son but the boy’s behavior as of late seemed to scream that he’d processed and was waiting for his parents to catch up. He’d gotten in trouble numerous times in the last month for fighting and it had nearly gotten him kicked off the baseball team. He’d been argumentative when he’d always been so sweet. Most of the time, it was directed at Dana. Other times, they’d hear him yelling into his cellphone at Fox. He’d all but stopped doing his homework and was quickly becoming the kid who didn’t show up to class.

“Will,” Dana said as she entered the living room. “I have some errands to run. I’ll be back later.” William neither stopped playing nor acknowledged her in any way. “Make sure you get your homework done. I don’t want another call from your teachers.” Again, Will ignored his mother. Her daughter sighed an agitated sigh. “William.” This time, her tone was firm.

“I got it!” he snapped.

Maggie watched as Dana let out another sigh, something she’d been doing a lot of lately. She kissed Will’s hair, told him she loved him, grabbed her purse, and walked out the door.

Will let out a frustrated growl when the door clicked shut. He played for a moment longer before taking his hands off the keys and gripping the piano bench as though he was bracing himself to be knocked off of it.

“We’re not going home, are we?” he asked in a low, rueful tone. Maggie studied him for a moment, waiting for her grandson to face her. He didn’t. Instead, Will stared at the wall against which the piano sat.

“I don’t know,” Maggie confessed.

Will exhaled a heavy breath and began to play again. She moved from her spot on the couch and sat beside him on the bench. He continued to stare straight ahead.

“Mom keeps avoiding answering that question. I don’t think she wants to.” Will swallowed and then added, “Go home, I mean. I don’t think she wants to go home.”

“What makes you think that?”

“We’d be home by now,” Will deadpanned. He played a moment longer before slamming his hands on the keys, creating a loud, discordant sound that caused Maggie to jump. “I’m sick of this!” he snapped. Maggie didn’t stop him. Lord knew he needed to vent. “They don’t even fight anymore! They don’t talk at all! I just…” he caught himself before finishing his thought.

Maggie waited, but William just sat there, breathing heavily, slowly.

“It’s okay, William,” she prompted. He looked at her for the first time, eyes red and glossy; the epitome of brokenness.

“I want to sleep in my own bed. I want to play my own piano.” He paused and looked away, quietly adding, “I just want to go home while we still can.”

Maggie wrapped her arms around him and let him cry for, what she assumed, was the first time in a long time.

After a while, William pulled away from her and pulled something out of his back pocket and handed it to her. Maggie unfolded the envelope. It was addressed to him. From the conservatory he’d been so focused on. She glanced to her grandson before pulling out the letter.

“I got in,” he whispered. “Probationary, though.”

“That’s amazing, William!” She caught the look on his face. “What’s wrong? You worked hard for this.”

“I haven’t told anyone.”

“Why not?”

Will sighed and said, “I’m not going.”

“William…”

“What’s the point?” he scoffed. “Will it make me a better pianist? Yes. I’d be trained by someone who went to Juilliard. But, they’re so focused their freakin’ war right now that…”

When he didn’t finish his thought, Maggie spoke up. “Your parents love your more anything, William.”

“Maybe, that’s the problem.” He sighed and rose from the bench. He pointed to the letter in her hand and said, “You can toss that” before proceeding through the kitchen and out the back door.

 

* * *

 

William Mulder sat at the table on the deck, eyes closed, taking in the feel of the storm raging around him. For the most part, the little portion of the roof under which his chair sat kept him dry; although, every now and again, a stray drop of rain would pelt him in the face.

He wasn’t sure what it was about storms that seemed to calm whatever was building up inside of him. But, without fail, they always seemed to help. The worse the storm, the better he felt.

He had no idea how long he’d been sitting out there, listening to his music with his eyes closed, willing the beast within to quiet. The loud cracks of thunder and the cool, wet breeze on his face were oddly cathartic. At some point, Will had drifted to that place in the back of his mind where nothing else existed but the void in which he’d started taking refuge.

It was someone pulling the ear bud out of his ear that tore him from that place of peace and knocked him back into reality. Will looked up to find his mother was standing there, arms crossed. The look on her face told him that she’d been trying to get his attention for a little bit.

“Can I sit?” she asked.

“Last I checked, the United States was still a relatively free country,” he retorted.

“I want to talk to you about something,” Scully said as she sat in the chair beside him but, he didn’t need to hear the words themselves; he already knew. She was looking for a house. He’d seen it. He couldn’t explain it but, he’d seen it.

They sat in silence as he waited for the bomb to drop and she, very clearly, tried to find the words.

“You’re getting a house,” Will blurted when he couldn’t take it anymore.

“How did -?”

“Gut feeling.”

“Are you okay with that?” she asked.

He scoffed. Hell no, he wasn’t okay with it. But, it wasn’t like he had a choice, either.

“Are you getting divorced?” he asked quietly, not sure he really wanted to know the answer.

“I don’t know yet,” she confessed. “Maybe.” He gritted his teeth, trying to quell the beast that seemed to be waking from its slumber inside of him. “It’s complicated, Will.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” he snarled.

“Will –.”

“No,” he said, without giving her the satisfaction of an explanation before going into the house and leaving her sitting there wondering what had just happened.

 

* * *

 

Scully let out a sigh. She knew it wasn’t going to be easy for him to hear but, she certainly hadn’t expected that reaction. Crying, maybe, for as much as she hated to admit it; but, not unbridled anger. The kind of anger that made her nervous. At least, he hadn’t hit anything. But, she definitely felt it. 

William had always been so easy: as a baby, as a toddler, and even as a teenager until a few months ago. Even then, when she could feel his anxiety or his anger, Will had been easy. Scully never been this uneasy around her own son. She hated that feeling; the feeling that one wrong move was going to cause him to go postal.

He had spent last weekend with Mulder while Scully spent the weekend looking at more places for them to live. She knew that her son knew she was doing it. She’d never be able to explain it but, there were times – certain houses – that she thought she could see him out of the corner of her eye. Although, he’d not been to a single place with her, she could feel him there: his sadness, his confusion, his anger.

God, that anger.

It was getting worse at an alarming rate. The fighting and acting out were growing more and more frequent. His bitterness was intensifying. Will was only fourteen. They needed to get it under control.

 

* * *

 

Scully looked around the house, envisioning where the furniture might go. She wasn’t exactly keen on the idea of it being called a “smart house” – whatever that actually meant – but, it was a nice house, close enough to the new school for Will to walk if he wanted to, not too far from the hospital.

She faced her son when the realtor finally stopped talking.

“What do you think?” Scully asked, trying to sound as pleasant as possible.

“I think it’s going to take us hostage,” he retorted in a bitter tone. The realtor laughed.

“It’s in an ideal location for anything you could want,” the realtor said. “There’s a mall, a theater, a gym – I hear they have a great rock wall, if you’re into that. There’s an arcade -.”

“Hear that, Mom? There’s an arcade,” Will said, seething sarcasm present in his voice. Scully frowned.

Saved by the cell, the realtor offered an apology before ducking into the kitchen to take the important call.

“So, really, what do you think?” Scully asked. “Do you like it?”

“I don’t care.”

She sighed as she watched him walk outside without saying anything else. The separation had been hard on him, she knew that. It was hard for her, too. Maybe, she thought, it was too soon to get their own place.

Scully shook the thought from her mind almost as quickly as it had entered. No, she had to do this. They needed this. They’d been drowning for a couple of years now and she couldn’t take it anymore. She certainly refused to put her son through that, too. Not to mention, they couldn’t keep staying with her mother.

After a final discussion with the realtor, Scully joined Will at the car.

The drive back to her mother’s house seemed to take infinitely longer than she knew it was. At a stoplight, she glanced to Will. He was staring out the window, earbuds dutifully in his ears, the unintelligible screaming of some rock band blaring through them. He always had those things in his ears.

Part of her wondered what would happen if he went without them for a day or so. But, she didn’t dare find out. Will’s music seemed to be his safety net, like the blanket he’d had when he was little.

“Focus on the road,” Will said without so much as a glance in her direction.

“Sorry.”

A honk from behind her was enough to tell her that the light had turned green.

“What?” he snapped, clearly annoyed, and yanked one earbud out of his ear.

“I just… are you okay?”

She already knew the answer.

“I’m fine.”

Scully always knew when he was lying. It had been that way since he started talking. She always seemed to know how he was feeling. Just like he always did when the roles were reversed.

She let the lie slide this time, the web of anger and anxiety that he seemed caught in lately was emanating from him in such a way that she knew forcing him to talk about it would only set him off.

“I just don’t give a damn about the robot house,” he continued.

“I know this isn’t easy for you,” she began, choosing to ignore his use of profanity. He scoffed. “Will, I’m trying here.”

“Actually,” he retorted. “You’re quitting. Running away. Strategically retreating. Call it whatever you want, but you’ve turned escapism into an art form and, you know what, that’s your prerogative. Just don’t pretend like it has anything to do with me.” Bitterly, he added, “I’m done being your scapegoat.”

She was stunned by his outburst.

“Will, this isn’t -.”

“Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better.”

“William,” she sighed. When he didn’t respond, she glanced over to see that his earbuds were back in his ears and he was staring out the window again.

 

* * *

 

Maggie looked up to see her daughter and grandson enter the house. Will made his way up the stairs without a word and Dana set her purse and keys on the small table by the door.

“Is everything okay?” Maggie asked.

“Yeah,” she sighed as she sat on the couch. “I knew it wouldn’t be easy for him, but…”

“Honey, Will needs time to adjust.”

“I know.” Dana let out a heavy breath. “I don’t know, Mom; maybe, this isn’t the best decision for him.”

“Is it for you?”

“For now… yes.”

“Then, you’ll make it work.”

Dana eyed her. Maggie knew that look. It was the Agent Scully look, the one she got on her face so many times when she was still FBI. It was the look that said she knew there was something between the lines but couldn’t put her finger on it.

Maggie sighed and produced the envelope containing William’s acceptance letter. She handed it to her daughter, neglecting to mention that she’d had it for a solid forty-eight hours. Dana took it skeptically.

“He got in?” she asked, reading the letter. Dana looked up and met her gaze. “Why didn’t he say anything?”

“That’s a conversation you need to have with him.”

To her surprise, Dana didn’t hesitate. Maggie watched as she left the living room and proceeded up the stairs.

 

* * *

 

Scully exhaled a heavy breath and knocked on Will’s door. When he didn’t answer, she entered the room. He sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard. It looked like was drawing. She hadn’t seen him draw in a long time.

“Will.”

He glanced up and then back down to what he was doing. She held up the letter.

“Why didn’t you tell me you got in?” She asked softly, hoping for an actual conversation with her son instead of some hostile exchange. 

Will shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Why not?” she asked, sitting on the bed.

“I’m not going.”

“What?”

Will scoffed. “I play three sports, have school, and spend my time going back and forth between you and Dad like a freakin’ tennis ball. When am I going to have time to practice? On the weekend? At Dad’s? You really think they’re going to tolerate that?”

“We’ll make it work, William,” she insisted. He shot her a look of disbelief. “What?”

He shook his head and continued with what he was doing. Scully watched him for a couple of minutes before going to find her phone.

She and Mulder needed to have a serious conversation.

 

* * *

 

Mulder’s heart nearly skipped a beat when he saw Scully’s vehicle come to a stop in the driveway. He noted that she looked great as he watched her walk toward him. It stung a little.

“What’s up, Doc?” he asked, trying to remain pleasant.

She held up what looked like an envelope as she walked toward the porch. He suddenly couldn’t tell if the look on her face was anger or something else.

“Do you know about this?” Scully asked. It wasn’t an accusing tone but a concerned one.

“What is it?”

Scully stopped in front of him and handed the envelope to him.

“Will got accepted to the conservatory.”

“That’s great!” Mulder said. “He didn’t tell me…” he mused aloud, feeling the sting that his son had kept the most important thing in his life a secret from him.

“He didn’t tell me, either,” she replied. Mulder blinked in confusion. “He told my mom, though,” she said in a tone that said she was just as hurt as Mulder had been a second ago. But, nevertheless, she continued, “Let me guess, he’s the one who checked the mail?”

Mulder thought back. Yes, for the last few weeks, William had insisted on being the one to check the mail when he’d been over there. He let out a sigh.

“I didn’t know,” he insisted.

Scully nodded knowingly. “I believe you.”

Mulder motioned for Scully to go inside, opening the door for her in the process.

“When does he start?” he asked, taking a seat on the couch. She sat down next to him.

“Next week,” she replied.

“I know that tone, Scully. What is it?”

“He said he’s not going.”

Mulder blinked in confusion. “What? What do you mean ‘he’s not going’? What did he say?”

“He said that he plays three sports on top school and...” Scully let out a sigh.

“And what?” he prompted.

“And he’s going back and forth between us.”

Mulder’s mouth went dry. There was no way that either of them was going to give up time with their only child. Yet, there was no way they could let him walk away from a chance like this. He’d worked too hard for it.

Mulder let out a breath. “So, what do we do?” he asked.

“I was hoping you might have an idea,” his wife confessed.

Mulder shot her a look and asked, “Why would I…?”

“Will isn’t as angry with you as he is with me.” She let out a defeated sigh. “I don’t know what to do, Mulder. Do we make him go? Do we let him choose? What’s the answer here?”

While it felt great that she was coming to him with this problem, Mulder didn’t have the slightest clue what the answer was, either. Will was bitter and resentful lately. Not that he didn’t have a reason to be. Their separation had been as hard on him, Mulder thought, as it was on himself.

“Well…” Mulder mused aloud. “I know it’s Wednesday and it’s not my normal time with him, but what if I take him out tomorrow? Batting cages… pizza… Maybe, I can get him to talk to me.”

Scully mulled it over for a moment before nodding her agreement.

“Okay,” she said.

“Okay,” he repeated.

They had just successfully made their first co-parenting decision as a separated couple. While it probably should have been a triumph, he thought, it hurt worse than he’d imagined.

“Mulder…”

“Yeah?”

“He’s your son, too,” Scully said. “You don’t have to ask to see him.” She looked almost sad that he would even think that way. He knew she’d never keep Will from him, but he didn’t want to push, either. That would only make things worse.

Mulder swallowed, but only nodded.

Scully checked her watch. “I should go.”

Before he knew it, Mulder was watching Scully walk out the door. Again.


	4. I Wish We Call Could Win

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something a little less angsty to give you, dear reader, a reprieve before we dive back into the chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to SlippinMickeys (go check out her stuff!) for reading over this for me!! <3 You are amazing, my friend!

Scully glanced over to Will sitting in the passenger's seat. He was staring out the window absently. It wasn't an uncommon thing for him to do in a vehicle. The shift in the car that she couldn't explain ripped her from her thoughts.

"Where are we going?" he asked skeptically. Scully should have known that Will would recognize the scenery; he was too observant.

"We're meeting Dad at -," she began.

"My favorite Mexican place," Will interjected dubiously enough to make his mother grin. Yeah, way too observant. Will arched an eyebrow.

"We want to talk to you; that's all."

"Over a chimichanga? Mom, that alone is enough to make my anxiety skyrocket. I'm begging you to tell me, at the very least, what kind of conversation to mentally prepare for." Scully only smiled. "Moooooom!" he groaned pathetically, in a way that reminded her of when he was six. She glanced over to him. He had the pout on his face to match his tone.

"It's nothing bad, I promise," Scully insisted.

"I think our definitions of that might differ," he retorted with a frown.

Scully couldn't help but to laugh. "I promised your father that I wouldn't talk to you without him. You'll just have to wait, Will."

He let out an exasperated sigh and said, "For the record, I think this kind of torture falls under child abuse."

Scully chortled as she glanced in the mirror before getting off of the exit ramp. Her boy and his dramatics...

* * *

Mulder drummed his fingers on the table anxiously as he waited for Scully and Will to join him. This was the first time he'd been out with his family since Scully left. While he wasn't exactly thrilled about the circumstance that brought about the dinner, part of him would take what he could get.

He'd originally planned to pick William up from school and take him out for a guys' evening but, something about it didn't feel right to him given the nature of the conversation they were supposed to have. Mulder and Scully had always done this parenting thing the way they did everything else: as partners. It didn't feel right to do this without her. 

He'd pitched it as a family dinner at Will's favorite Mexican establishment, knowing all too well that Will's favorite food would make him more receptive to what they had to say. Although Mulder had left that last bit out of his proposal, he found himself surprised when Scully jumped at the opportunity. He knew she was anxious given the rift between herself and their son lately, but she'd agreed to a family dinner... In a public place. 

For that, Fox Mulder was a grateful man.

It wasn't long before Mulder saw his family enter the establishment. They looked like they'd been laughing about something. What he wouldn't give to have heard it. It had been a long time since he saw either of them with a genuine smile, even longer since he heard laughter that wasn't laced with sarcasm.

Mulder waved at the same time Will spotted him. His son nodded in acknowledgement and got Scully's attention. There was a grin still plastered on Will's face.

"Hey," Mulder greeted, standing up when they approached the table.

"Hey, Dad," Will greeted in return.

Scully offered a weak "hi" but was smiling as she said it. 

"What'd I miss?" Mulder asked.

"Mom torturing me," Will frowned. Mulder glanced to his wife but Will only laughed. "We saw some dude try to light a cigarette while riding a bike and he completely face-planted in the side of a bus stop. It was  _amazing_!" he said, sliding into the booth before his mother sat next to him. Mulder sat back down across from them.

"I told you not to laugh about that!" Scully reprimanded him, but the smile on her face betrayed her words.

A waiter was there in a matter of seconds to take drink orders.

"So," Will said, popping a chip into his mouth. "What's this shindig all about?" He glanced between his parents. "Don't think for a second that I don't find it suspicious. I mean..." he popped another chip into his mouth and through it added, "don't get me wrong, I'm totally cool with your execution style. It's just that my insides feel like jelly and the suspense is murder."

Mulder noticed Scully shift uncomfortably.

"Really?" Will asked in an exasperated tone before either one of them had a chance to say a word. He faced his mother. "You said this wasn't a bad thing!"

"It's not," Mulder offered. "We, uh, we just..." Lacking the words, he slid the letter from the conservatory across the table. Will's chewing slowed but he didn't touch the paper.

"The letter," he said knowingly and let out a sigh. "I told you that I'm not going," he said to Scully. It wasn't the angry tone that Mulder was half-expecting but, rather, rueful.

"And, we think that's a mistake," Scully replied softly. "You're talented, William. You've worked too hard for this to walk away from it."

Will let out a heavy breath.

"Your mom's right, bud," Mulder added. "We just want to make sure that you've really thought this through. Not long ago, you were calling it the most important thing in your life." Mulder leaned forward on the table. "So, what happened?" he asked softly.

Will shot a look of disbelief at his father before eating another chip.

"That's a joke, right?" he deadpanned, his mouth full. Mulder exchanged a look with his wife. "Look, I already told Mom why I'm not going. I play  _three_ sports. I have a couple of weeks of school left which means I have finals coming up. Not to mention, we're not exactly in a..." Will paused as though looking for the right word. "We don't have a  _stable_ situation right now. I mean, we live with Grandma and I'm running all over the place. If I do this, I have to be completely focused. Right now, I don't think I have the headspace for that."

"I told you that we'll do what we have to do to make it work," Scully said softly, rubbing their son's shoulder.

"I know you did. And, I know you meant it. I just... I have a lot of thinking to do and no time to do it. I have two days to give them an answer. If I do this, I have to start Tuesday. I have an away game Wednesday to think about, too. I have two summer camps to go to before football season starts."

Mulder glanced to Scully. She was chewing on her bottom lip. Everything in him longed to reach out and take her hand but, he didn't. Will sighed, bringing Mulder back to the present.

"It's just a lot," the boy said. "They'll only tolerate complete and utter devotion. I don't know if I have that in me right now."

"What about dropping a sport?" Scully offered. 

Will looked up to Mulder as though he'd been asked to participate in some treasonous affair.

"William," Mulder said, knowing exactly what was going through his son's mind. Sports was  _their_ thing. "I'm proud of you whether you play sports or not. I know you like playing sports - you're good at it. But, we want you to focus on what makes  _you_ happy. I think we all know that's your music."

William seemed to mull it over as the waiter returned to take their dinner orders.

* * *

Will was surprised to find that dinner with his parents had progressed with lively conversation as opposed to awkward silence. It wasn't what he was expecting, especially after they'd ganged up on him about the conservatory. Although, he assumed that the public setting had something to do with it.

He tried his best to hide the torrent of emotions inside of him as he considered what his father had said. Will wanted so badly to go to the conservatory, had worked hard to get in and barely managed to do it. It wasn't something that happened to just any pianist. He thought about what everyone said as he absently munched on his food. His father had said he'd be proud of him for pursuing his passion. His mother had made her position clear over the last few days. Hell, even his grandmother had voiced an opinion. But, what they didn't know, the part that Will steadfastly refused to voice was that, if he did this, it would force everyone to accept where they were at.

Attending would force his dad to face the fact that they weren't coming home, a fact that Will struggled to accept. It would force his mother to admit that she put them in this position in the first place.

He wasn't sure he could shoulder being the bearer of that information. 

Tonight, for once, things were going well. His parents were talking, smiling. He even found himself laughing on occasion. They hadn't done this in longer than Will cared to remember. But, once the meal was over, this pretty picture would become nothing more than an absent doodle on a sheet of paper. It changed nothing about where they were at. That notion alone was like a knife in Will's gut.

In the next couple of weeks, he'd be moving into a new house with his mother. He wondered if his father even knew that she'd gotten a place. Will would spend the summer going back and forth between the two of them as he prepared to attend a new school, join new teams, and face an entirely new set of issues that would be added to his current ones. While the music helped to calm the beast within and helped to quiet the raging storm in his mind, it could only do so much before Will Mulder would inevitably lose control.

The thought scared him. He'd seen it happen in his dreams. To say it ended badly would be an understatement; it would be the Disney version. His parents wouldn't understand - they couldn't. They didn't see what Will saw when he closed his eyes. They couldn't feel the desperation to avoid the death and decay. He needed to reach the void, the silence; his refuge. Music provided the avenue to that. 

Will watched his parents for a quiet moment, considering the new challenges he knew he'd be facing. They were laughing about something that he'd missed during his reverie. Tonight, they felt like a family. It was painful to realize how much he'd missed that. 

"I'll do it," he heard himself say quietly. His parents looked at him with looks he couldn't quite decipher. "The conservatory. I'll do it."

His father looked proud; his mother smiled. Will felt nauseous. 

"That's what you want?" his mother clarified. "You don't  _have_ to do it, Will. We just..." she glanced to his father.

"We just wanted you to consider what walking away from your dream would mean," his father finished for her.

"I was thinking about it and, you're right. I've worked too hard to walk away. Even if they did cut me down to size during my audition.  But, I can't get into Juilliard if I don't improve technically. They can fix me." Will shrugged. "Plus, it's not like I have a Plan B. I never had one. I never  _wanted_ one." He sighed. "I never wanted to be a cop or a doctor or a firefighter or any of the things the other kids always want. I wanted to be a musician."

Will wasn't aware that he'd set his fork down nor was he aware of the smiling creeping onto his face as he continued. "I don't know what my song is, yet; but, I can't just not find it. Ya know? I don't know if that makes sense but it's what I need."

He met his father's gaze.

"Your truth," his father said.

"Um... I guess, that's one way to put it," he replied, eyebrow arched and not at all sure what that meant. "All I know is that I will die if I don't do this. Maybe, not a  _literal_ death. But, on the inside."

"I'll call the conservatory tomorrow and let them know," his mother replied with a smile.

"Look at that, Scully," his father said with a smile on his own face. "Our boy's gonna be a rockstar." 

Will snorted in amusement. "Classical musicians are not rockstars."

His father only shrugged and Will couldn't help but to smile as he took another bite of his queso-smothered chimichanga, forcing the implications and revelations that would come with his decision completely out of his mind. He was going to enjoy the rest of this dinner and deal with everything else tomorrow. 

Yeah... 

He could do this. 

Right?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: the dude at the bus stop thing is a true story. I saw it happen on campus a few semesters ago and about died laughing.


	5. Oneonethousand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will gets sick and is haunted by nightmares. Scully and Mulder sit with him.

Will looked around his room. Everything in it, aside from a few shirts and his favorite hoodie hanging in the closet, was brand new. Brand new bed with brand new bedding. Brand new snow globes, identical to the ones at his father's, sitting on a brand new shelf just above the small, brand new dresser. His brand new bookcase was filled with brand new duplicates of books he already owned.

This room was, admittedly, quite a bit larger than the one at his dad's but there was something about it that left a bitter taste in his mouth. It didn't feel like home. It felt a copy.

The entire situation made him want to scream. He didn't want to know how much money was sitting in front of him in the form of things. His beloved piano aside, Will had never been one for _things_. He preferred moments. Experiences. The beats of time that made him feel alive.

It wasn't that he was ungrateful. Just the opposite, really. He appreciated the effort his mother had put into making this room resemble something familiar, something comfortable. It just felt... wrong.

Will sighed and made his way to his bed. He stared at the wall before laying back, his legs still hanging over the edge. Shutting his eyes, he desperately sought the sanctuary of the void. He needed to chill out, calm down, get control. He needed to quiet the beast before it could wreak more havoc on his already spiraling life.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been lying like that. Minutes? Hours? All Will knew for certain was that he opened his eyes and found himself staring at the ceiling, his abdomen hurting worse than it had the last couple of days.

"Will?" He heard his mother call.

With a sigh, he sat up. He groaned immediately before calling back to her, "Just a sec!" He clutched his abdomen, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth; willing himself not to vomit.

 

"How was your day?" His mother asked with a smile as he entered the kitchen.

Will shrugged. He caught sight of a paper bag on the table. It smelled like take out.

"What's in the bag?" he asked.

"Chinese." She made a face that he couldn't quite decipher and softly added, "I haven't seen you much this week. I was thinking we could gorge ourselves on Chinese food and watch a movie? Unless, you have practicing to do..."

Part of him felt guilty. Will knew his mother had no idea that he hadn't touched the baby grand on the far side of the living room and he didn't have the heart to tell her. He'd appreciated the gesture when he came back from his dad's and saw the beautiful instrument. But, he still hadn't been able to bring himself to touch it. For the last six days, it sat there, taunting him. He wasn't ready to face that finality, yet.

So, Will forced a smile. "Sounds like a plan. What are we watching?"

His mother smiled widely in return. "You pick a movie. I'll get dinner sorted."

He nodded and made his way to their small collection.

 

* * *

 

 

Scully glanced at Will to find him curled up at the other end of the couch. He looked a bit flushed in her opinion, but she didn't inquire - despite the strong urge to do so. Things between them had been better since the night they had dinner with Mulder, almost two weeks ago. She assumed the focus he'd been placing on his music helped to distract him from whatever thoughts tended to float around in his brilliant brain. The same thoughts she knew caused the majority of his anxiety.

She faced the TV again.  _The Wizard of Oz_. Scully had been a little surprised that Will had chosen the movie. He'd always loved it when he was younger, much to his father's dismay. But, she couldn't remember the last time they'd watched it together. 

Will had always been a different sort of child. He was never one to go running in the popular direction. He knew what he liked and he stuck to it. He was like Mulder in that way, never giving a second thought to what people thought of him. At barely fifteen years old, he liked old movies, video games, literature, scholarly articles -- oh, how many times she'd heard him say the phrase, "that's not a credible source!" over the last couple of years, usually when arguing with Mulder about the validity of some sea monster or Bigfoot related article. Scully was thankful Will was skeptical; she wasn't sure if she'd have been able to handle two people who believed, very literally, everything. Will enjoyed athletics, too. Mulder wasn't wrong: Will was good at whatever he put his hand to. She often wondered how much the sports her son played helped in channeling the aggression he'd been displaying over the last couple of years.

If she was being honest, Scully liked to pride herself and Mulder on raising a well-rounded kid. 

It was the couch vibrating that drew her from her reverie. She looked over to find Will shivering, clutching the small blanket around himself tightly. 

"Will?" she asked, her internal alarms blaring when she noticed the sweat beading on his forehead. He didn't respond. "Will?" she pressed.

Finally, he whimpered and raised his head slightly before dropping it back to the couch. Scully moved to kneel by him and placed her hand on his forehead. He was burning up.

"William, sweetheart, go get in bed. I'll be there in a second to take your temperature," she said, rubbing his shoulder soothingly. 

He whimpered in response but attempted to sit up before crying out in pain and doubling back into the fetal position, clutching his abdomen as the blanket fell from his shoulders.

"Where does it hurt?" Scully asked, the doctor part of her completely overpowering the mother. He placed his hand close to his right hip. Scully felt around, trying to be careful as he winced and whimpered the entire time. "I think it's your appendix. Have you been feeling sick?"

Will nodded. 

"How long?"

"Few days," he replied with a groan. "I thought it was the flu coming on."

Scully pressed a kiss to his scalding forehead. "I'll be right back with your shoes and jacket. We need to get you to the emergency room, okay?"

He nodded and curled back up into the couch.

 

* * *

 

 

Will looked around the concert hall. His father sat next to his mother, smiles on their faces. He looked to the grand piano that rested center stage. Will felt dangerous eyes on him, but couldn't place where they were coming from. 

He exhaled heavily, tugging at his tie as he sat on the bench. Will opened the sheet music resting on the piano and began to play.

"Not that one," a voice hissed in his head. Will ignored it. "Not that one," it said, more forcefully. He'd never heard the beast inside him actually talk. It usually threatened in the form of violent urges. This, he thought, was far more disconcerting. Urges he could control. But, voices? Was he going crazy?

"Our song," it hissed again.

"That's not what's on the page," Will growled back in a voice so low that no one would hear him talking to himself. As if in response, he felt the blood sear in his veins - the beast's venomous reply. Will winced, ignoring the pain despite that it was threatening to make him combust. When he couldn't take it anymore, he stopped playing and cast a glance at the audience. Their expressions didn't change.

"Our song." It wasn't a hiss this time, but a whisper. 

Will shut his eyes and allowed the beast to guide his hands across the keys. If it wanted the damn song, he'd play the damn song. Anything to make the pain stop. 

When he opened his eyes, there was only silence in the hall. Will looked to the crowd. Aside from his parents, who were still sitting in the second row, there wasn't a crowd. But, he couldn't look away from the horror. Blood and bits spattered across the entire place. Even on his parents; although, they didn't seem to notice. They sat there, staring at him. Their stoic expressions caused him to vomit over the side of the stage. 

What had he done?

Why didn't they stop him?

He looked back at the piano. His weapon; his instrument. It seemed to mock him. 

All he knew for certain was that he had to get out of there.

Now.

 

* * *

 

 

Mulder stood in the doorway to Will's room watching Scully for a moment as she sat at their son's bedside. He thought about every time he'd semi-jokingly given her crap about her bedside manner over the years. With William, the mother always seemed to overtake the doctor. That, he thought, was a beautiful thing to see.

_Mulder entered the house, groceries in hand. God, it was freaking cold outside._

_"Hey, Scul-," he looked up in time to see her jam her index finger against her lips, silencing him. It was then that he'd noticed their seven-year-old son lying on the couch, his head on the pillow in her lap, blanket pulled tightly around himself._

_"He fell asleep a few minutes ago," Scully said quietly._

_Mulder silently walked to the couch, set the bag on the coffee table, and knelt in front of them. Scully was rubbing Will's visibly damp hair. He was so pale._

_"How's he doing?" Mulder asked._

_"His fever's back up but, he managed to keep down the little bit of soup he had earlier," she replied, glancing down at the boy. After a moment, she met Mulder's gaze again, tilting her head. "What is it?" she asked, softly._

_"I love you," he replied with a smile. She smiled back._

_"I love you, too."_

_He rose enough to press a kiss to his wife's lips. Her free hand found his cheek. When they parted, he knelt back down. Mulder watched his son for a moment and then looked back at Scully._

_"Want me to take him up to bed?" he asked._

_"In a minute," she replied. She looked back down at Will._

_Mulder nodded, knowing. Despite still being a mommy's boy, William was getting older and spent far less time cuddling her as he used to. Scully was cherishing this. That was very clear by the look on her face. Mulder sure as hell wasn't going to rob her of that._

_"What are you thinking?" Scully asked._

_Mulder grinned and shook head. "I was just thinking about when we were FBI. You were such a bad ass. But... you're even better as a mom."_

_Scully smiled, blushing. Mulder stole another kiss and said, "I'm going to put these away." He grabbed the bag from the coffee table and disappeared into the kitchen._

"Mulder?" Scully's soft voice said, snapping him back into reality. She looked concerned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he replied, walking toward his family. "I was just thinking." He stopped at the edge of the bed and handed a cup of coffee to Scully. "How is he?"

"He's okay. His doctor said he can probably leave tomorrow. It'll be slow going for him for a couple of weeks." 

"He'll hate that," Mulder said, causing her to chuckle. 

"Yeah, he will."

"But, everything went okay, right? No complications?" he asked.

"He's fine. His appendix burst, but it didn't take long to get him into surgery."

Mulder thought for a moment before asking, "Do I need to bring him anything? Book? Gameboy?" Scully smirked. "What?"

"I don't think they call it a Gameboy anymore," she replied, her eyes sparkling with amusement. He'd missed that. Before he could reply, she added, "I think he'll be happy to have something to do."

Will's groaning caught their attention and Mulder took a seat in the second chair. 

"What do you think he's dreaming about?" he asked over Will's unintelligible mumbling. 

"The last thing he saw was  _The Wizard of Oz_. He's probably dreaming about flying monkeys."

There was something about her tone that made Mulder laugh. "It's beyond me why he likes that movie."

Scully looked at him, clearly amused, and said, "Says the man who made a career out of hunting aliens and Bigfoot."

Mulder fought a grin. He couldn't argue with that. "The monkeys always terrified me. I'm man enough to admit that." Scully laughed. "Believe me, I can appreciate the irony."

 

* * *

 

 

The bright lights burned his eyes, sending a sharp pain through his brain. Will groaned. 

"William?" his mother's soft voice asked, almost echoing through his throbbing head. A hand squeezed his own.

"Mom?" he croaked. Will suddenly realized how dry his throat was. "Water?"

"Got it." He thought it was his father's voice.

It took a moment for everything to come back into focus. Both of his parents were standing together at his bedside. Will glanced around. He was in the hospital. 

"How ya feeling?" his dad asked, handing him a cup of water.

Will drank some of it before saying, "Like I got hit by a truck." He took another drink and handed the cup back. "What happened?"

"You had an emergency appendectomy," his mother said, running a hand over his forehead and into his hair. He felt like he was disgusting and would give anything to take a shower at that moment. 

"I... what?" He tried to sit up but pain shot through him. 

"Easy, bud," his dad said. "You don't want pop a stitch."

Will studied his parents. The way they stood together, his father's arm around his mother's shoulders, made them look like a regular family. Will exhaled, trying to ignore the facade before him.

"When can I leave?" Will asked, deciding not to ask to go  _home_. Home was a foreign concept right now. All he wanted, at this point, was one of his beds; something more comfortable than the bed he was currently occupying.

"Tomorrow," his mom replied. "Dad's going to bring you a book and your... _Gameboy_." Will arched an eyebrow when he saw her smirk. His dad nodded with a sheepish expression on his face. Will had, very clearly, missed something.

"I don't have a Gameboy," he deadpanned. "You mean my 3DS?"

"Yeah, your 3DS," Mulder said. "Any specific games you want?" 

"I have a bunch of games in the case with it. It's on my desk at your house. Just bring the whole case."

"I can do that." 

The three of them were silently for a few minutes. He wasn't sure what it was, but something caused Will to recall the concert from his dream. Panic shot through him. He needed to leave, go anywhere else.

"Will?" He heard his mother ask. "Mulder." There was a panic in her voice now. He heard his father's voice but, couldn't make out the words over the ringing in his ears. 

The next thing Will knew, everything went black. 


	6. Counting Time in Quarter Tones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fourth of July at Maggie's. Scully gets interrogated by her family about where she and Mulder stand; William and Matthew bond.

It was the first year in a long time that Mulder wouldn't be going to the barbecue at Maggie's. Not that he hadn't been invited. Both of the Scully women in his life had asked him to make an appearance. But, the last thing Mulder wanted to do was face Scully's asshole of a brother and hear a recount of all the ways he'd fucked up his marriage. 

No, Mulder already knew all of that. If he wanted to hold on to any shred of hope that Scully and William might come back home, he couldn't go to that barbecue. 

He'd felt bad when William asked about it. The disappointment on his son's face had been clear. This time, Mulder couldn't allow himself to cave. He'd fought monsters in the dark, hunted down aliens, and thwarted the apocalypse. One battle he could never win would be the one within himself -- especially, with Bill fighting him at every turn.

It was okay, he'd told William. The boy could come over when he was done with his mother's family and they'd finish the night in their usual Fourth of July fashion: watching  _Independence Day_. William had accepted that. Although, it wasn't lost on Mulder that he was still somewhat disappointed. Whatever Will had been hoping for wasn't going to happen. 

In the meantime, Mulder would relax on the couch and plan out the next few days with his son.

 

* * *

 

Will entered the house like he'd done so many times already. It was a nice house, really. A smart house. Although, he'd often wondered how long it would take for it to freak out and hold them hostage like the one on that movie he'd seen on the Disney Channel when he was little. At least, he thought, this house didn't have AI or a hologram capability. Well... that he knew of.

It was a far nicer house than the one he'd grown up in, the one his dad still occupied. Despite being nicer and filled with things that didn't really matter to him, the house was hollow. Empty. Just as empty as he was. 

Will sighed to himself. The last time he'd gone down this line of thinking he'd ended up having an appendectomy and popping stitches in the throes of a panic attack. That was almost a month ago.

He stopped in the living room, catching sight of the baby grand. It was a gorgeous instrument and no doubt sounded amazing -- he thought about that every time he saw it. But, he still hadn't touched it. Will would never confess this to anyone, of course; he'd appreciated the gesture and, under normal circumstances, he'd jump that the opportunity to lose himself in it. 

So, why couldn't he just play the damn thing? Why did he let it taunt him like this? What made a simple piano  _so damn threatening_? Every single time he stared at it, the piano seemed to stare back. It was like it was begging him to let go of his inhibitions and allow his fingers to dance across the perfect ebony and ivory keys. Every time, he refused the call. It only seemed to scream louder.  _Play me, just this once_. 

But, he couldn't. And, it was torture that he couldn't figure out why.

"Don't even think about it," his mother said, entering the living room.

"Think about what?" he asked, confused. 

"Practicing. We don't have time." Scully paused. "Where have been? I've been looking all over for you."

"I, uh, I went for a run."

"You couldn't answer your phone?" she reprimanded. 

"I had the Do Not Disturb set," he confessed sheepishly. "Notifications interrupt the music and it throws me off. I didn't think about you needing to get in touch with me. Sorry."

"It's okay," his mother sighed. "Just hurry up and get ready. We have to be at Grandma's in less than an hour."

Right. The barbecue. The Fourth of July.

Why were they going again?

Oh, right. Because they always went. Except, usually his dad went with them. 

From Will's understanding, his dad had been invited but opted out of going. Something about not wanting to deal with his uncle Bill on top of everything else. Whatever that meant. Will had heard Mulder mention that he would go if Charlie did. Again, Will didn't have a clue what that meant. But, it had certainly pissed off his mother.

 

* * *

 

Scully watched as William sat stoically on the couch. He seemed to only half-watch whatever was on the television. He mostly ignored the rest of the family; although, to his credit, he hadn't been rude by any means. He spoke when spoken to, responded appropriately, helped out when asked for his assistance. But, this year, his heart just wasn't in it. 

She knew that Will missed Mulder's presence. Normally, Mulder would be manning the grill instead of Bill. William would be outside laughing with his father as Scully and her mother would take care of side dishes inside. She sighed. It seemed like every time William was starting to get used to his new normal, something else would swoop in and throw him for a loop and he'd end up right back where he started: depressed, anxious, and lost in his own head.

Part of her wished that Mulder had changed his mind and showed up to the barbecue. Technically, he still had time. Scully knew that Mulder was the only one who could get through to William when he was lost in his own head. She'd always chalked it up to "like father, like son." Matthew, to his credit, had tried to get William to go outside and toss around a football. But, Will had politely declined, opting instead to play his familiar melancholy melody on the piano in the living room.

If Scully was being totally honest with herself, her heart wasn't in the barbecue, either. It almost felt wrong that Mulder wasn't there with them, making some stupid joke about something only Will would understand. When she texted him a few minutes before, his reply had been whether or not Charlie had shown up. She'd only sighed and put away her phone. Secretly, Scully still hoped that he'd change his mind, maybe meet them at the park later. But, she wasn't going to hold her breath.

"Is he okay?" Bill asked, nodding to the living room as he grabbed a tray of raw meat from the kitchen table. 

"He's... I don't know," she confessed. "I think he misses Mulder." Bill scoffed. "Bill," she warned in response, "don't."

"I know. I'm sorry." Scully arched an eyebrow. It wasn't the response she'd come to expect when the topic of her husband was broached with her brother. "Are you getting divorced?" He asked in a tone she couldn't quite decipher.

"I don't know."

"Dana, you've been separated for how long now? You think Will is going to move on if you don't?"

"It's not that simple," she sighed. 

"I'm not saying it is, but you do have a son to consider, too."

"You think I don't know that?" Scully snapped in response.

Bill sighed. "That didn't come out like I... That's not what I'm saying." He paused, thinking. "Why don't I talk to him? Maybe, he'll open up to me?"

Scully knew a snowball in Hell had a better chance of survival than Bill had getting William to open up to him, but she nodded anyway. It couldn't hurt to try.

Bill poked his head into the living room. "Hey, Will? Give me a hand?" Will arched an eyebrow but complied. 

 

Scully glanced out the window above the sink, watching her brother and her son. Will didn't seem thrilled and Bill seemed to be somewhat frustrated. It wasn't going well. 

Before she knew it, Will stormed off. 

She let out a sigh as Matthew came running into the house. He grabbed Tara's keys from her purse, flashed Scully a grin, and said, "We're gonna take a drive. Be back in a bit," and barreled out the front door, throwing something over his shoulder about fireworks.

 

* * *

 

"So, my dad's kind of a dick," his cousin said when he caught up to Will. 

"That's one way of putting it," Will grumbled in response. 

"Where ya going?"

"Anywhere else." It took a moment to realize that Matthew was following him in stride. "What are you doing?"

"Going with you."

Will stopped walking and turned to face him. Matt smirked and held up car keys, giving them a little shake so they jingled, and said, "Let's go for a drive; raise a little hell."

Before he knew exactly what was happening, Will found himself fastening his seatbelt in the passenger's seat. 

 

* * *

 

Scully looked up when Tara re-entered the kitchen. 

"Everything okay?" Maggie asked. 

"I can't find Matt," she replied with a frown.

"He and Will went for a drive," Scully said. "Something about a firework stand."

There was a moment of silence as Tara sat at the table with Scully and Maggie. "How's Will doing with... everything?"

Scully let out a sigh. "Honestly, I don't know. One minute, he seems fine; the next, he's getting kicked out of football camp for fighting." She could feel her mother's eyes on her, but Maggie didn't say anything.

"What about his music?" Tara asked. "I heard him playing earlier. He's getting really good."

"I think it takes his mind off of it," Scully replied, throwing tomatoes in the salad bowl. 

"What about you?" 

She wasn't sure if it was the question itself or the calm in Tara's tone that startled her. "What about me?" she asked.

"How are you doing?" 

"I'm fine." Scully looked up to find her sister-in-law and her mother both giving her an incredulous look. "I am," she insisted. 

"Dana..." her mother prompted. 

Scully sighed. "I'm not saying it's easy. Between shifts at the hospital and Will's acting out..."

"Have you thought about getting him into counseling? I have a friend whose kids didn't handle her divorce well. Counseling worked wonders for them."

"That's a good idea," her mother added. 

"Mulder and I have talked about it," Scully confessed. "We decided to talk to Will about it but, we haven't really had a chance."

"How is Fox?" Maggie asked quietly. Scully had been waiting for that question since she got there. Her carefully crafted reply, however, vanished.

"Mom," she sighed.

"I'm concerned about him, too, Dana," her mother reprimanded. "He  _is_ my son-in-law and my grandson's father."

"He's..." Scully searched for the right words but, found none. "Mulder. He's Mulder. I don’t know; he seems to be doing fine."

Awkward silence permeated the kitchen for a few minutes before Tara broke it. "Have you considered family counseling?"

"I tried for two years to get Mulder to talk someone." Scully was aware of the bitterness in her tone, but she didn't care. It was the truth. She'd tried,  _begged_ , but he refused. 

"That was for himself," her mother countered. "Based on some of the things I've heard from William, he might be willing to go as a family."

"I sincerely doubt that," Scully retorted.

"Dana, you know as well as we do that the only things Fox cares about are you and William."

Scully wanted to correct her, tell Maggie that her husband cared more about the possibility of an alien invasion than working through their problems. She knew better than anyone; she'd tried for two years to get him to work on it. Mulder steadfastly refused, sinking deeper into himself and spending more and more time in his office doing whatever the hell it was that he did all day.

But, she held her tongue. 

 

* * *

 

Matt popped the trunk as they got out of the car. 

"I came prepared," he said with a smirk, taking out two bottles of beer. Matt passed one to Will. 

"Your dad might actually murder you," Will deadpanned as Matt took a seat atop the trunk. Will joined him.

Matt laughed. "That's why we're only drinking one. Last thing we need is to show up at Grandma's drunk."

"Never mind that you're driving," Will retorted.

Matt snorted. "You're funnier than I remember," he replied. "Too bad we don't get to hang out more. You're way cooler than I was expecting."

"I'm gonna choose to take that as a compliment." Will sipped his beer. After a moment, let out a sigh and asked, "Matt, why are you hanging out with me? We have, like, nothing in common."

Matt shrugged. "We don't actually know that. We've met, what, eight times over the years? I don't think we ever really got to know each other, as lame as that sounds." He sipped his beer. "I say we blame our fathers."

"They do hate each other," Will agreed with a snort.

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes. "Random question," Will said. Matt looked over at him as he sipped his beer. "You know anything about Charlie?"

"Uncle Charlie?"

"Yeah."

"Not really. I haven't seen him since I was little. Dad doesn't really talk about him."

"Neither does my mom," Will replied before taking a sip of his beer. 

"Why do you ask?"

Will shrugged. "I don't know. I've always wondered about him. I've heard his name and Melissa's mentioned every now and then. My mom has compared me to him a couple of times." He snorted. "My dad used to say that he doesn't think Charlie is real. I guess it always stuck with me."

"Well, I can tell you that he's alive and that he is real. I'm not sure what he does or where he is, though."

"Think we have cousins we don't know about?"

"Probably," Matt replied. He pursed his lips and then said, "All I really know about them -- Charlie and Melissa -- is that Dad refuses to talk about Charlie and he, uh... he blames your dad for Melissa dying."

"What?" Will asked, jerking his head to look at his cousin. He'd never heard about this. "Why?"

"I don't know. I asked once but he just went off on some tangent about how Aunt Dana could do better and something about aliens... honestly, I stopped listening at that point. Figured he was just crazy. My dad, not yours."

Will nodded absently.

"No one else blames Uncle Fox. You know that, right?" Matt said. Will's only response was to take another sip of his beer. "Dude, my dad's just a dick. He likes everything done a certain way and he has control issues. If you don't fall in line, you're the enemy. Your dad..." Matt grinned before continuing. "Your dad is the guy who has snowball fights and makes pillow forts and steals cookies for us."

Will arched an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

"I was like six or seven and we came to visit for Christmas. Your dad broke all the rules," Matt explained with a shrug. "That's always what I think of when I hear about you guys, though. How fun he is." There was a moment of awkward silence before Matt spoke up again. "Do you get see him very often?" Will must have made a face because his cousin elaborated, "I heard about the separation. My parents were talking about it when they thought my sister and I were sleeping. She actually was; I wasn't."

Will swallowed. "Yeah, I get to see him whenever I want. It's weird, though."

"How so?"

"Well, for one thing, he sleeps on the couch and thinks I don't know. He tries to be up before me but, I have trouble sleeping more than a couple of hours at a time so, it doesn't really work."

"That sucks."

"Yeah," Will sighed. "I wish they'd just figure their shit out. Either get back together or get a divorce, you know? The limbo is killer." Will took one last sip of his beer before chucking the bottle. "It's like, I'm the fuckin' kid, right? I should be thinking about sports or piano or whatever; not which topics to avoid with which parent. They wonder why I just need to smash things sometimes." He exhaled a heavy breath.

"Damn, Will... I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. I don't know where that came from."

"I get it. It's a different situation, but I understand the need to smash." Matt let out a scoff. "My dad runs a tight ship. Too tight, sometimes." He snorted derisively. "He had my whole life planned out before I was born. I was scared to death to tell him that I didn't plan to join any branch of the military. He's practically forcing me into engineering." Matt chucked his own beer bottle toward where Will's had fallen.

"What do  _you_ want to do?" Will asked. 

"I don't know. I never really got the chance to find out."

"Dude, you're what, eighteen? You still have time. That's what college is supposed be for, right?"

"It's not that easy. Not when he has my school picked out, too."

"Where do you want to go?"

"Northwestern."

"So, go. It's the same process no matter where you end up: apply, pay the application fee, wait. Wash, rinse, repeat. Just slip in the Northwestern application with the others. And, if you don't want to go into engineering, don't. It's not  _his_ life. It's yours." Will paused before asking, "What do you want to major in?"

"Either history or political science. Maybe, go into law."

"So, do it." Matt made a face that said he was uncomfortable with the notion of defying his father. "At least, think about it," Will insisted. "You'll thank me later."

Will hopped off the trunk in time to hear Matt's phone going off. 

"Speak of the devil," Matt said, holding it up for Will to see who had texted. Matt looked at the message. "They're wanting us to come back. Food's ready."

"We never did hit that firework stand," Will pointed out.

Matt smirked. "Sure we did. We just didn't find anything we liked."

Will grinned in response and said, "Look at that. I'm already a bad influence on you."

Matt laughed and they got in the car to head back to their family.

 

* * *

 

The sound of laughter got Scully's attention. She watched as her son and nephew passed a football back and forth, only catching pieces of their conversation through their laughter. 

"It's nice to see him laughing," her mother said from beside her. 

"Yeah, it is," Scully agreed, smiling. "Who would've thought they'd have hit it off like that? Especially, given Will's mood earlier."

"It's good for him. Good for Matty, too," her mother replied.

Scully considered her mother's words about Matthew for a moment. She and Bill had chosen to raise their children quite differently. While Bill raised his children more closely to how their father raised them, Will had grown up with Mulder's influence. And, the boys could not be more different. 

She took stock of Matthew. He was tan with a short military hair cut. His pale yellow polo shirt was tucked neatly into his khaki shorts. He was the epitome of a Navy brat, a boy who grew up on base. William was completely different. His hair was dark with just enough red in it still to give it a unique color in the light. It had also grown out significantly since school had let out. He wore dark jeans and a black t-shirt with "Nope." printed in white across the front. Where Matthew was tan, William was pale. 

Despite their physical and temperamental differences, they'd somehow found some kind of common ground and had spent the last few hours cracking jokes that only they understood and laughing hysterically at things that made no sense to anyone else. She hadn't realized exactly how much she missed the sound of Will's laughter. 

The boys tossed the football back and forth until Bill called them over when the fireworks started. 

 

* * *

 

Mulder glanced to the door in time to see Will entering the house, followed by Scully. 

"You're just in time!" Mulder greeted, setting the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. 

"Noice!" his son replied with an enthusiasm Mulder hadn't heard from him in he didn't know how long. "Grandma sends food," he said, handing filled Tupperware to Mulder. "I'm gonna throw my bag in my room, change, and I'll be back down."

Without another word, Will barreled up the stairs, leaving his father confused and holding leftovers. 

"He's in a good mood," Mulder said, walking toward the kitchen. Scully followed.

"Yeah, he is," she said. Mulder didn't have to see her smile to know that it was there. He knew that tone of voice well.

"He's not high, is he?"

Scully laughed. "He better not be," she joked, causing Mulder to chuckle as he set the left overs on the counter. "He and Matty really hit it off."

"Matty? Bill's son, Matty?"

"I know. I didn't see it coming, either." She pulled out her phone. "I got some pictures. I thought you'd like me to send you some of them."

Mulder took the phone and scrolled through the photos that Scully had taken. He stared at pictures of Will smiling, laughing, throwing a football with Matt. He looked to Mulder as if a weight had been taken from his shoulders. He looked like a normal kid enjoying summer break.

"Ready?" Will's voice penetrated Mulder's thoughts. 

"Yep!" He faced Scully. "You want to join us?"

"I have an early shift," she replied. Mulder's heart leapt when he heard the disappointment in her tone. Despite how badly he wanted to, he fought the urge to tell her that she could always sleep there and go in the morning. The last thing he wanted to do was push her away in an attempt to draw her close.

"It's because the popcorn is smothered in butter," Will said. Mulder smirked. Even Scully couldn't hide a grin.

"That's exactly it," she retorted, pulling her son into a hug. She kissed his temple. "Have fun."

"We will!" he replied in a singsong manner as he made his way to the fridge. 

Mulder stared at his wife, not at all sure how to process the sudden change in their son's behavior. She seemed as clueless as he was. 

"I'll walk you out," Mulder said, following her out the front door. 

 

Mulder glanced over to William. The teenager was dozing off. Mulder grinned to himself. Will had never made it past this part of the movie. No matter what time they'd started it. 

Although he would never say it, it was one of Mulder's favorite things about this portion of the evening. Knowing that William was determined to finish the movie and never having done so. When he was younger, Mulder used to carry him upstairs and put him to bed. Will would always wake and insist that the following year, he would finish it. 

At fifteen years old, he still hadn't seen the end of the movie. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so Matt’s description is based more on what I saw from high school aged guys when I lived on an Army base. I’m ASSUMING it’s pretty similar for all branches, but someone correct me if I’m wrong. I was an Army brat, not Navy.
> 
> Also, the Indepence Day thing is something we always did - especially, when Dad was overseas. It took me until my twenties to actually see the end of that movie. Lol I, stubbornly, refused to watch it any other day of the year. *shrug*


	7. The Scandal of Grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder musings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was NOT where I’d planned for chapter 7 to go. But, I’m glad the muse had a mind of its own because this ended up being way better (in my opinion) than what was written in my plan.

Two weeks had passed since the Fourth of July, since his son had come over with a pep in his step and laughter on his lips. Two weeks since Will had started burying his face in his phone as he texted back and forth with his cousin, his new best friend; his laughter breaking the tense silence that permeated the little house in the middle of nowhere. Two weeks since Scully had talked to Mulder about going to counseling.

Again.

Mulder, for his part, was aware of his faults and flaws as a human being, as a husband, and as a father; those same faults and flaws had pushed away his wife and caused her to take their son with her. He didn’t need a shrink to tell him these things any more than she needed a doctor to tell her when she had the flu instead of the common cold.

But, she’d asked about it. Again. And, again, he said he’d think about it without any intention of actually going.

She had to know, Mulder thought, that there was no way he was going to see someone. He didn’t have a problem exactly – besides a horrible case of missing his family. Yet, there sat Fox Mulder, the epitome of desperation, entertaining the notion of letting a stranger fix his familial problems. He hated feeling useless almost as much as he hated asking for help. Especially, when he’d been working so damn hard to fix this himself.

Scully had gone to a seminar of some sort in some city he couldn’t recall about some topic on which he was ignorant, leaving William in his care. So far, nothing out of the ordinary had taken place. Although, Mulder would still participate in every superstitious remedy required to prevent anything bad from happening. The last thing he needed was for Will to get hurt or have a breakdown while at his house. She’d never trust him with their child again.

Mulder shoved that thought from his mind. She’d told him before that he didn’t have to ask to see William; that the teenager was his son, too. Scully had never withheld Will from Mulder for any reason and he had no real reason to believe that she would.

When he actually thought about it, he was surprised at how well the co-parenting was going since their separation. If he was being totally honest, their communication had gotten better, too. It was more reminiscent of before the depression had hit.

Fucking depression.

It wasn’t so much that he was depressed, Mulder often argued to himself, as much as he was focused. He needed to focus. The same way that William did. Admittedly, William had inherited that from him along with other self-deprecating tendencies. Although, he had the same spunk that Mulder had tried to exude when he first met Scully, the need to prove that he was more than the things people said about him.

Fox Mulder had never really been a man who gave any kind of damn about the opinions of other people. The way he’d always lived his life had been proof of that. But, when one Dana Scully walked into his basement office, everything changed. Suddenly, there was someone whose opinion _did_ matter. He wanted to be perfect because she was perfect.

It was that longing for perfection that had constantly threatened to drive him crazy. He was the bastard romantic when it came to her. He could watch her sleep, watch her dream, and still want more. He could have her in his arms and it wasn’t enough. He would protect her when he was the reason she was in danger in the first place. Scully had told him often that it wasn’t his fault – whatever the _it_ happened to be at the time; but, Mulder knew better. The things she’d faced, she never would’ve faced if she hadn’t gotten tangled up with him.

But, she _did_ get tangled up with him.

Mulder knew that his inadequacy issues stemmed from a place deep inside where the longing to be loved had long since been neglected by those around him. Ex-girlfriends and lovers, his own parents, the FBI into which he’d poured so much of himself, the ever-unsolvable X-Files that had consumed him for nearly a decade before the love of his life had been sent to spy on him and eventually take him down.

But, she didn’t take him down. Not in that way, at least. No, she had joined his cause; attached herself to his wild ride and rode it out with style, dignity, and grace. She challenged him, pushed him, comforted him, and loved him.

Scully had loved him and he’d done what he did best: ruined it. It took fourteen years before the inevitable happened. But, it still happened and it left him wondering just where faith and fear had collided, where instinct had overpowered innocence, where the blind’s vision was restored; where life turned to death.

He had a reaper’s touch when it came to those around him. Mulder had thought it was gone; instead, it had only slept a fourteen-year slumber.

Every single “Mulder, it’s me” had been a sonic boom in his heart. Every single smirk had melted him. Every time she had laughed, it threatened to push him over the edge and into insanity. Not because there was anything wrong with her. No, it was because there was everything wrong with _him_. If only she had seen that about him in the beginning, turned tail and run. But, she didn’t; she stayed beside him through it all.

So, what in the hell, the actual fuck, of all that was holy stopped him from doing the one thing that might actually solve his problem? If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t know. Was it fear or pride keeping him from doing the only thing she’d asked of him?

Mulder had always been a joke, a scandal to the very institution that had breathed a new life into him after Samantha’s disappearance. Then, he’d met Scully and she became part of the scandal. From the bets to which their coworkers thought they remained ignorant, to the constant stream of mocking nicknames, to the conspiracy that they uncovered and fought with everything they had to expose, Mulder had scandalized the most important thing in his world: his partner, his best friend, his lover, the woman who would bear his son and whom he, as it turned out, would convince to marry him.

Never once had she given credence to the scandals. Never once had she made him feel unwanted or unloved, even he had made her cry, made her scream at him in her frustration, when he risked her life in his own selfishness; not even when she walked out the door to protect herself and their only child. He had ruined her life. The least he could do was _attempt_ to repair it.

Mulder thought about William who was upstairs, perfecting his gift from the confines of an unremarkable bedroom in an unremarkable house. His mind drifted to the first time Scully had asked him to be a father. He’d been terrified, flattered, excited. He’d wanted to say “yes” right away but his own self-doubt had crept in and he needed to clear his head. So, he “thought about it.”

Now that they had William, Mulder wondered what he’d been so afraid of that first time. He _loved_ being a father. He loved teaching Will to walk, to talk, to play sports. He’d loved helping the boy with his homework when he was still in elementary school. He’d loved telling William bedtime stories based on his life on the X-Files when Scully was gone and couldn’t reprimand him for it.

Mulder had told himself that he hadn’t wanted anything to change between the two of them. Maybe, it was because he wasn’t sure what role Scully had wanted him to play in that baby’s life. She’d never said if he was going to be Daddy or Crazy Uncle Mulder. Maybe, it had been because he was in love with her and, selfishly, didn’t want to share her with anyone else – including his own child. Maybe, it was because she had been his best friend and, despite that he was madly in love with her, he was scared of going down the road of Mommy Scully and Daddy Mulder for fear that she would slip from his life like the other sane people always had. Maybe, it was because his own father wouldn’t admit to loving him and Mulder never wanted that child to feel from him what he felt from his father.

Then, he thought about the first time he felt William kick in Scully’s belly. She’d had a partial abruption and they’d almost lost the best thing that would ever happen to them. Mulder had never been more terrified than the moment before the pizza delivery boy had called 911.

The nurses kept kicking him out of Scully's room when he’d sneak in and find her sleeping. All he’d wanted to do was watch over her, over the baby inside of her. Admittedly, timing was never his forte. But, he’d managed to sneak in once and she happened to be awake. All his fears dissipated when she told him that they were both going to be okay and, as if it had a mind of its own, his hand found its way to their son still protected in her womb.

William had kicked at his touch and he’d been filled with a sense of wonder, of pride, of hope. That was the first time he felt like a father. That was the first time he knew that he’d give his life for the child in Scully's body. That was when he knew that everything was different. It was in that moment that he stopped caring about everything else: his work, the X-Files, fighting off demons, monsters, and the untold wonders of the dark.

In that moment, Fox William Mulder, FBI Special Agent and resident whack job, had a family. A real family. A family that needed and wanted him. His purpose had changed: love them and lead them. 

For years, that was exactly what he did. He loved them with all he had. He led them with strong hands. He stood up when they couldn’t stand. He gave up all the things he used to chase and devoted himself to giving them the best of his life.

Somewhere along the way, the darkness crept back in. It had come back so slowly and quietly that Mulder hadn’t noticed. If he had, he liked to think he would have shut it down. But, he didn’t. Instead, he embraced it as an old friend, this wolf in sheep’s clothing. Before he knew it, the darkness had consumed him with its calculated, manipulative touch. Mulder had been duped.

The same darkness dwelt in his son, whether because of genetics or proximity to Mulder. He could recognize William’s demon as easily as he could his own. Scully, on the other hand, didn’t have a demon. She’d seen or heard it creeping in, stalking in the recesses of her brain, and had done what Mulder failed to do. Her demon didn’t stand a chance.

He hoped William could do the same, follow his mother’s example instead of his father’s. Perhaps, Mulder thought, that was why the notion of counseling wouldn’t leave him alone this time: his son. William still had so much time, so much life to live before the demon would rise from its dormant state and beckon him to an inheritance of misery.

William’s gift was his weapon. As long as he could focus on his mind on something singular, disregarding all else, his demon couldn’t wake. That’s what Mulder told himself. It was the only hope he had that William still had a chance not to become him.

Mulder ran a thumb over the phone that had been in his hands for a while now. He thought about calling; he probably _should_ call. Yet, he knew that Scully had been looking forward to this seminar and he didn’t want to interrupt any fun she was having. Instead, he sent a simple text for her to read at her convenience:

_Okay. I’ll go._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: Depression is a real thing. It’s a dick and it’s consuming. I know this very well as I deal with it and monster anxiety. That said, if there’s ANYONE out there who read this and is like, “whoa. I get that. I deal with depression/anxiety, too,” don’t hesitate to hit me up. I know what it’s like to need to just talk it out.
> 
> Twitter: @catebatman


	8. Where The Pavement Meets The Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three simple words with the power to change everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, my muse was on an introspection kick. No, the next chapter won't be a William introspective chapter. LOL.

_Okay. I’ll go._

Three simple words with the power to change everything. Three simple words that Scully had been dying to hear for years. Three simple words that made her have to sit down before she fell down.

She stared at the phone in her hand with no idea what to say back. “Okay” felt flippant. “I’ll make the appointment” didn’t feel like enough. If Mulder had been with her in Chicago, she’d have kissed him.

They were really doing this.

He was willing to fight for what was left of their marriage, of their family. Scully could admit that, deep down, she knew he’d been fighting for them all along - in his own way. Every time she looked in his eyes, she could see that he wasn't giving up. But, words and actions were different things. Scully had heard enough words. She needed to know for sure; she couldn’t keep guessing. She needed to see the things he said come to fruition.

Maybe, Scully pondered, that was why she hadn’t filed for divorce when everyone around her was urging her to do so. Maybe, somewhere deep inside, she still had enough faith in her husband not to throw in the towel just yet; not to bet against him. Mulder had always been full of surprises, unceasing wonder. This time, he'd surprised her in the best way.

He was willingly getting help. This time, Scully had neither poked nor prodded, begged nor pleaded with him to do it; she delivered no ultimatum. Scully recalled suggesting family counseling once before she left and he’d ignored her. She had suggested it again after she left and he’d waved it off. She had asked once more, intending it to be the last time, when she dropped off Will on her way to the airport and Mulder had said he’d think about it. She had accepted that “thinking about it” was better than nothing.

Truth be told, she hadn’t expected him to _actually_ give it any thought, let alone agree to it. But, he did. She had it in writing. The evidence was, quite literally, in the palm of her hand. She hadn’t been this keen for anything since she was pregnant with William and eagerly awaiting his birth.

William.

Scully wondered how William would handle counseling. Like his father, he wasn’t really one to talk about what was bothering him. Although, in all fairness, he normally didn’t need to – Scully could always feel when uncertainty, depression, anxiety, or whatever emotion he was trying to process at the time was emitted from him like a beacon. And, she was usually able to correctly guess the source. But, her son retreated into his music the same way his father retreated into UFO message boards.

Being only fifteen, William didn’t exactly have the luxury of declining the way his father still could, the way Scully feared Mulder still might when push came to shove. He couldn’t back out at the last second or “forget” about the appointment. But, what if they made it there and Mulder expressed some sort of reluctance while they were in a session? Or, worse: distrust? William would almost certainly pick up on it and follow his father’s lead. That’s just what he did: follow Mulder.

That’s what _she_ had always done.

This time, Scully held the reigns. She wasn’t following Mulder down his dark path anymore. She wasn’t slaying monsters with him. That part of her life ended when her son was born; the nails in the proverbial coffin were hammered in place and she chose to pursue a career in medicine, a career that was  _safe_.

Scully didn’t want Mulder’s truth anymore. She didn’t want to chase mysteries, hoping for some piece of the puzzle to reveal itself along the way. She no longer wanted to feel like Alice stumbling through Wonderland with no sense of direction. No longer could Scully live a life filled with pretentious, Cheshire smiles and "off with their heads!" She couldn'tdo that even if she _wanted_  to. They had a son now; someone who actually needed them. They had a reason to fight instead of blindly swinging their fists, hoping to hit something in the dark. They couldn't go looking for trouble when they had something so precious at stake.

Scully was tired of living in a game of chess, being maneuvered by other people; a slave to their strategies and ambition. So, she stopped playing. Mulder did, too, for a while. Life was good. They raised William together, ate dinner together, watched movies together. They went to Little League and Mighty Might games, eavesdropped on piano lessons.

They had gotten out of the car.

Gradually, Scully had watched Mulder slip away. She’d been powerless to stop it, begging him to take a look in the mirror and plug up the holes before the ship sank. But, whatever siren had called to him was too loud for Mulder to hear her desperate pleas. He pressed onward, either headstrong or oblivious, into the abyss. And, eventually, the ship  _did_ sink.

Now, they had a chance to repair it or build something new.

It wasn’t that she wanted him to change. Scully had fallen in love with Mulder for a reason - for many reasons. All she was asking of him was to be present, to be in their lives, to be more than only someone who merely existed. She wanted _Mulder_ , not this stranger with her husband’s face.

They were actually doing this.

Scully’s brain came back to the three words she couldn’t stop staring at:

_Okay. I'll go._

She wasn’t the only one putting in effort anymore. Mulder was, too.

Finally, she texted him back:

_Can I call?_

Scully didn’t have to wait before her phone was ringing and Mulder’s name showed up on the screen. Hearing, “Hey, Scully, it’s me” made her heart race and her stomach flip in the way it had before they left the FBI, before they had a marriage and a son. It was the way it had been when they were just two people who loved each other and joked about the people making bets on the nature of their relationship; when they were those two people camping out in seedy motel rooms in strange places; back when he was the hero and she was the heroine.

She found herself surprised when she realized that they'd talked for nearly an hour. Scully couldn’t recall the last time they’d had a conversation that lasted as long when William wasn’t there to keep it going. They discussed logistics, finding the right person for their situation, making the appointment when she got back, and how they were going to tell Will about it together. Although she hadn’t said it, she didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up – least of all, her own.

The call ended and Scully found herself lying in a plush hotel bed, staring at the ceiling. The only light in the room was what crept through the slit where one dark curtain met the other. It made funny shapes on the ceiling, but she was too distracted by her thoughts to consciously acknowledge the light.

They were really doing this.


	9. Even Heroes Need A Parachute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little family therapy is a good thing, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this took six rewrites before it got to what it needed to be. We're diving back into some angst because otherwise therapy is rendered moot.
> 
> SIDE NOTE: I've never been to family counseling so, I asked a friend about her experience. Dr. Jake is based off of my shrink (although, I changed his name).
> 
> Sorry for any typos. I rewrote this so many times I probably missed a few things. But, I'll read over it again and edit what I need to edit... because I'm a perfectionist and it bothers me, lol. 
> 
> We’re getting close to the revival - which, I’m taking liberties with because s10 sucked and s11 had a confusing-as-all-hell timeline.

Scully entered Will’s room when he didn’t respond to her knock on his door. He was sound asleep, lying on his back with one hand resting on his stomach and the other securing his phone to his chest. No wonder he didn’t hear her, his ear buds were in his ears. She wondered how he could sleep with his music that loud; how whatever band it was that was screaming unintelligibly into his ear could be a lullaby.

She couldn’t help but to chuckle. He wore a grey t-shirt, off of which he’d ripped the sleeves, the same shade as the grey in his athletic shorts. His compulsion to always match was one of his quirks and Scully had no idea where he’d gotten it. Will must have gone running, she assumed.

Scully watched her son sleep for a moment, hesitant to wake him. He looked disturbed. It made her wonder if he was having a nightmare, if he was even dreaming at all. Maybe, he’d just fallen asleep to his anxious thoughts. Maybe, she thought, amused, it was the screaming in his ears.

Will hadn’t been responding well to the family counseling despite the fact that his father hadn’t assigned it any negative connotations. In fact, she’d been surprised at how Mulder had encouraged Will’s participation. She’d heard Will’s end of phone conversations, nearly begging his father to excuse him from participating. The derisive sighs from her teenager had been enough to tell her that Mulder had held his ground.

It surprised her, really. Mulder had always been the one to cave easily when it came to Will. He’d always been good cop to her bad cop; fun parent to her disciplinarian.

Mulder’s enthusiasm made her wonder what caused Will’s objection. He certainly hadn’t voiced anything specific, only his dissonance on the subject. It made her wonder if he knew something that they didn’t know. If he did, what was it exactly and why wouldn’t he share with the rest of the class?

“Will,” she said, finally, as she gave him a little shake. He didn’t so much as flinch. She shook him a little harder and said his name a little louder. His eyes fluttered open and he pulled an earbud from his ear. “Time to get ready,” she said, softly.

His only response was giving her a thumbs up before dropping his hand back to his stomach and shutting his eyes. Scully couldn’t help but to smirk. He’d been sleeping hard and was clearly not waking easily from his nap. It reminded her of Mulder.

“William,” she said. This time, his eyes shot open. “Come on. Time to get up.”

He checked his watch and then rubbed his face, asking, “Is there coffee?”

“Yes,” she said. “I’ll get you some but you have to get up. We have to leave in half an hour.” Will groaned. “I know you don’t want to go, but you have to.”

Will sat up slowly with a look of dissatisfaction on his face. Aside from the copper tone to his dark hair, he looked so much like Mulder in that moment that Scully couldn’t help but to grin. She waited to make sure he wouldn’t lay back down.

“I gotta shower,” he sighed.

“Make it quick,” Scully replied, turning to exit his room. “Do _not_ go back to sleep,” she said over her shoulder, just in case.

* * *

Mulder sat in the lobby with his family, waiting for one Dr. Jake Hadley to summon them back to his office. The last two sessions had been filled with getting to know them and figuring out why they were in therapy in the first place. Scully had a lot more reasons than Mulder had anticipated. In his opinion, however, a survey would’ve sufficed and saved them some money but, he’d agreed to do this and he was doing it. Even if Dr. Jake was, in his opinion, too young and smiled way too often for a normal human being. Did the guy not _any_ problems of his own?

“Remind me why _I’m_ here again?” Will chided, ripping Mulder from his reverie as he sat opposite his parents.

“You’re part of this family,” Mulder deadpanned in response. “It’s _family_ counseling.”

“I’m not the one with a problem,” his kid countered. “ _Your_ problems, on the other hand, could fill the Library of Congress… multiple times over.” He smirked as he added, “Couples counseling might’ve been the way to go.”

Mulder heard Scully sigh from beside him. He looked at her as she said, “You do have problems, Will.”

“Ouch.”

Scully rolled her eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that, but you _did_ get kicked out of football camp for fighting. That’s a problem.”

“You are never gonna let that go, are you?” Will retorted in an exasperated tone. “Let me say it slowly: he…had it…coming.” He scoffed and grumbled, “Besides, it’s even remotely on the same level as leaving your husband.”

“That’s enough, William,” Mulder scolded, far harsher than he’d intended to be.

“I just meant that in the grand scheme of things -,” he began defensively, but Mulder wasn’t having it.

“I said, ‘knock it off’.”

“Correction: you said that was enough.”

“I’m not telling you a third time.” This time, Mulder made sure that the warning in his tone was unmistakable.

Will glowered at him as he put his earbuds in his ears. The music was loud enough that Mulder could hear it from across the small lobby.

“Thank you,” Scully said quietly.

“You didn’t deserve that,” he replied.

“Yes, I did,” she sighed. “But, thank you, anyway.” She placed a hand on his knee and he held her gaze for a moment. The look in her eye was enough to tell him that she wasn’t just thanking him for reprimanding William. He nodded.

“We should probably ground him. He can’t get away with that,” he said.

Scully opened her mouth to say something, but the door swinging open cut her off. Dr. Jake stood there with his megawatt, too-white smile and beckoned them back to his office.

This was supposed to be the week that they really started diving into things. He wasn’t quite sure why, but suddenly Mulder’s heart was pounding.

* * *

Will’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He couldn’t help but to snort at the meme Matt sent him. Feeling watched, he quickly replied and set the phone face down in his lap, knowing that Matt would like his response.

Dr. Jake started talking again. It didn’t take nearly as long as Will thought it would take before his phone vibrated again.

_Destiny?_

Will tried to remain stoic as he typed back: _Can’t. Family counseling._ He sent a facepalm emoji for emphasis. Before Matt could text back, Will sent a third text: _Send help?_

He looked up, unable to hide a smirk, and met his mother’s disapproving scowl. Will shrugged.

The phone vibrated again.

_Sorry dude. Text me when you’re home._

Will let out a sigh.

“William,” his mother said firmly.

“Sorry. It’s Matt,” he replied, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

“Matt?” Dr. Jake asked. Will noted the interest in his voice; although, whether the interest came in the fact that Will had actually spoken or that Will had a friend was of little consequence to him.

“My cousin,” he retorted.

“You’re close, you and Matt?”

Will sighed, agitated, and retorted, “Brilliant deduction, Nancy Drew.”

“What’s so important that it can’t wait?” his father asked in that turn-off-your-phone tone that Will usually only heard from his mother.

“Apparently, nothing,” he sighed.

“Tell me about your relationship with Matt,” Dr. Jake said.

“How is that, at all, conducive to wasting less time?”

“William,” his mother replied with a sigh that he knew meant he was probably going to get talked to the second they got back to the car.

“Why do you think your time here is wasted?” Will blinked in response. This dude was serious. “This isn’t the first time you’ve mentioned feeling like this is a waste of time,” Dr. Jake elaborated.

“You’re getting paid to psychoanalyze _them_ , not me.”

“Let me ask you something, Will, why do you think your parents want you here, too?”

Will smirked and offered a snide, “I got kicked out of football camp.”

“Why?”

Will shrugged.

“Fighting,” his father answered for him.

“What happened?” Dr. Jake asked, not taking his eyes off of Will.

“Who cares? I’m not playing football this season.” He faced his parents. “I planned to drop a sport anyway, remember? That was _your_ bright idea.”

“You didn’t want to quit playing sports?”

Will scoffed. “We’re not here about _me_. I’m just an extra in this scene. We’re here about _them_. Keep up.”

“You don’t want to talk about it,” his mother said.

“No, Mom, I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about it with you. I don’t want to talk about it with Dad. I, sure as hell, don’t want to talk about it with this cat.”

“Can you talk about it with Matty?” his father asked, surprising Will. That was the kind of question he’d expected from the good doctor or his mother, not his father.

Will let out a heavy breath, pinching the bridge of his nose in the process. Next week, he was going to be sick or bring a book or something.

“Why is this a waste of time?” Dr. Jake asked again. “You mentioned feeling like an extra in this scene, as you called it. Why do you feel like that?”

Will licked his lips. He really didn’t want to answer that question. The second he did, he couldn’t take it back. The second he told them what was really on his mind, they were going to push and pry and nitpick. He had a recital to focus on; he certainly didn’t need his parents micromanaging him when he had that to deal with already.

“Will?” his mother asked.

“You don’t want me to answer that question,” he confessed.

“Why not?” Dr. Jake asked.

“Asks the guy getting paid,” Will retorted.

“Answer him, Will,” his father said.

Will glared at his father for a long moment before he snapped, “Because this has nothing to do with me!” He shook his head, frustrated, and glowered at his mother. “It’s not _my_ fault that you left!” He looked to his father, barely taking a breath between statements. “It’s not _my_ fault that you sleep on the couch six months later. This stalemate is on you. _Both_ of you. This is a waste of time because you know damn well that neither of you are gonna make a move of any kind. The only thing _I’m_ guilty of here is existing!”

“What do you mean?” his mother asked. She seemed shocked by his outburst which only served to fuel his anger.

“Are you kidding me?” he scoffed. “Let’s face it: if I wasn’t in this equation, you’d have filed for divorce a long time ago.”

“That’s not -,” she began.

“Isn’t it?” Will challenged. “You’re gonna look me in the eye and tell me that if I wasn’t around you’d still have any contact with Dad?” He faced his father. “Or, that you would be sitting here right now, paying this asshat to fix your problems?” He paused. “I don’t think so.”

Silence permeated the office, none of the adults seeming to have a clue what to say. Will’s phone vibrating seemed louder than he knew it was. He reached into his pocket to check it.

“Put the phone down, William,” his father said. “Let’s talk about this.”

“What is there to talk about?”

“The fact that you think you think any of this is your fault, for one,” his mom added.

“I said it  _wasn’t_ my fault. I’m just collateral damage.”

“Will, let me ask you something,” Dr. Jake began, “what’s the last good memory you have with your parents?”

“How in the hell -?” Will began, but Dr. Jake threw up a hand.

“Just humor me. The last memory -positive memory - you have of the three of you.”

“Before or after they split?”

“The last one, whether they were together or separated.”

Will sighed but thought about it. “I don’t know… my birthday weekend, I guess.”

“Tell me about it.”

“We went to New York.” Dr. Jake grinned and Will realized that wasn’t exactly what he meant. “Dad and I took in a Yankees game; they lost. Mom was shopping during that. Um… I don’t know, we ate. We went to Juilliard. Came home. We shared a two-room suite.”

“Why was it so special?”

Will shrugged. “I guess because it felt like everything was paused. Aside from Dad and I sharing a room, we felt like a family again.”

Dr. Jake looked satisfied. Will cast a quick glance to his parents. They looked deflated and shocked by his response.

“That, Will, is why _you’re_ here,” Dr. Jake said. There was a sympathy to his voice that Will hadn’t expected. “You bring an entirely different perspective, something they might not be able to face without you. If they can’t face it, the problem doesn’t get solved and the reason they’re here is to work through the problems. Am I wrong?”

Will let out a sigh.

Point: Dr. Jake.

* * *

Not one of them said a word when they exited the building. Mulder seemed just as lost in his thoughts as Scully was in her own. Will had his earbuds in, his typical way of avoidance.

Dr. Hadley had suggested that the three of them pick some sort of activity over the next week and do it as a family; they would talk about it next week. Scully didn’t have the slightest clue what to even suggest.

It broke her heart that they had been so clueless as to Will’s point of view on their separation. The acting out, she thought, should have been the indicator they needed. She’d known it was deeper than what he’d told them but, she didn’t have a clue just how deep they’d hurt him – that _she’d_ hurt him.

Will had been angry with her. That wasn’t a secret. How well he’d hidden his feelings… well, that was something she couldn’t figure out. He’d done a damn good job of it.

Scully glanced to Mulder and wondered if he was thinking the same things she was thinking as he walked them to her vehicle.

“So…” he said, awkwardly, after their son had shut the passenger door. “We’ll need to decide what, uh, activity we want to do.”

“Yeah,” Scully replied just as awkwardly.

Mulder hesitated before asking, “Do you think we should talk to him or wait until the next session?”

Scully didn’t have the slightest clue. His outburst had felt like he’d pushed them out of a plane, with no parachute, and they were still in freefall, waiting to hit the ground with no way to brace for impact.

“I don’t know,” she confessed with a sigh.

“Well… we can figure it out.”

“Yeah,” she replied, not knowing what else to say. Mulder started to walk away before she stopped him. “Mulder?”

“Yeah?” He asked, spinning on his heel to face her.

“Thank you for doing this.”

He nodded.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll call you later.” He gestured to the vehicle behind her. “When he’s calmed down a little bit.”

Scully offered a weak smile before getting in her car and driving them home.

* * *

Will entered the house ahead of his mother. Neither of them had said a word the entire drive home. Not that he’d wanted to talk about it.

He made a beeline for the baby grand and sat down on the piano bench. There was an inevitable conversation looming over him, one that he didn’t want to face. Dr. Jake had said that his purpose in the family therapy was to, essentially, keep his parents honest.

It was ironic, Will thought. He was the reason they were being dishonest in the first place. He wasn’t sure which of them he was angry at anymore. Was he angry at his mother for breaking their family like that? Was he angry at his father for putting her in that position in the first place? Or, was he really angry at himself for being the reason they were all stuck in this mess?

He shut his eyes and put his hands to the keys for the first time. Will couldn’t take back what he’d said in therapy; he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to. It had needed be said, but it left him with a hollowness that he hadn’t expected. He desperately needed his music; desperately needed to reach the void before this caused him to become completely undone.


	10. Seven Times Around The Walls

Scully relaxed into the couch and shut her eyes. It had been quite a while since she got to hear Will play the piano. It seemed like she’d been running constantly lately, something she hadn’t done since she and Mulder ran all over the country chasing monsters. Granted, this time she was spending more time at the hospital covering for someone who was on vacation. Between that and getting Will to the conservatory and getting the both of them to their counseling sessions, she hadn’t realized just how exhausted she was.

“Is that for your recital?” she asked when he’d hit a particularly beautiful portion of the song.

“No,” he replied. “It’s just something I haven’t been able to get out of my head.”

Scully’s eyes flew open and she sat up, surprised. “You _wrote_ that?”

“Yeah,” he replied sheepishly. “I _should be_ practicing for my recital, but I won’t be able to focus on that until I get this out of my system.”

Scully watched as he paused his playing and snatched the pencil perched on his ear. He grabbed the papers on his piano and began to write.

“I didn’t know you were writing music,” she said when he set the sheet music back in its spot. Will shrugged and began to play again.

“I don’t very often. I woke up with this in my head.” He’d said it matter-of-factly, but Scully couldn’t help but to wonder what brought it on. When Will wasn’t practicing something for the conservatory, he was playing a familiar melancholy melody. This was entirely different from what she was used to hearing from him and it made her wonder where he got his inspiration. Counseling? Having a friend? Was he writing it for a _girl_?

Scully couldn’t help but to grin at the thought. While she wasn’t exactly ready for her baby boy to be dating, she knew he was at that age. He hadn’t mentioned anything to her, but she wondered if he’d said something to his father. Scully made a mental note to ask Mulder the next time she saw him.

“No,” Will said.

“No?” she replied, confused.

“I didn’t write this for a girl. I’m not interested in anyone.”

“How-?”

Will glanced at her over his shoulder with a grin that made him look so much like Mulder before he returned his gaze to his music.

 “I don’t know. I just knew.”

“You know that you can tell me -.”

“Mom, I _really_ do not want to have The Talk with you… again. And, no, I don’t want to have it with Dad, either.” Scully grinned as he continued. “Besides, my heart belongs entirely to my music.”

Scully nodded. Of course, it did.

“What about you?” Will asked in a tone she couldn’t quite decipher.

The question took her by surprise. “What about me?”

“Are you dating anyone?”

Part of her wanted to ask if Mulder had put him up to asking that question. Or, was Mulder seeing someone? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Instead, she deflected, “Why do you ask?”

“You didn’t answer my question,” he countered.

“No, I’m not seeing anyone, Will. I’m married.”

“Yeah, but you’re separated.”

Scully probably should have seen the question coming at some point, she mused. He wasn’t wrong. She and Mulder had been separated for seven months. 

“William,” she said softly, trying not to come across as defensive, “if I planned to start dating, I wouldn’t be in therapy trying to make it work with your father.” When Will didn’t reply, Scully asked, “Why do you ask?”

Will hesitated before answering, “Curiosity, I guess.” He stopped playing and sighed before turning around on the piano bench to face her. “Can I confess something?”

“Of course.”

“I’m apprehensive about all of this.”

“All of _this_?” Scully repeated.

“Therapy. This whole family activity crap.”

“Why?”

“Honestly? It just feels contrived. Like, none of us _want_ to do it; so, why are we?”

Scully thought for a moment, weighing her words carefully before responding. “William, it’s not that Dad and I don’t want to spend time together. It’s just… it’s not easy. We have a lot to work through.” She paused before continuing. “In therapy the other day, what did you mean when you said you felt like collateral damage?”

Will bit his lip and took a deep breath. “I meant… I meant that I’m caught the middle. Dad has slept on the couch every single night since we left. You still haven’t filed for divorce. I used to wonder if you’d even intended to but, then, you got a house and, yet, you’re still married. I guess, it just doesn’t make sense to me.” He hesitated before continuing. “When we first left, you said it would be a few days and, now, it’s seven months later. I know that tomorrow _shouldn’t_ be awkward, but it will be.”

Scully rose from the couch and went to sit on the piano bench by her son. She put an arm around him. “We never meant for you to feel like you’re caught in the middle. You were right in therapy: none of this is your fault. I’m glad you know that. But, you should _never_ feel responsible for anything that happens between me and your father. Never.”

He exhaled and nodded. “I know that. But, sometimes, I feel like I live with a big question mark over my head. Just when I think I’ve found normalcy, _boom_! There’s something else to pull the rug out from under me.”

“Because of us?”

“Because of all of it. I don’t really know how to explain it.” He let out an exasperated sigh and said, “If I’m being honest… Mom, I don’t even know which house is home at this point. Neither one feels like it. I constantly feel like I’m going to explode.” He looked down at the floor and quietly added, “It terrifies me.”

“Why?” she asked softly but, he refused to meet her gaze.

“If I blow up – I mean, _really_ blow up…” Will exhaled a heavy breath before continuing. “It’ll make getting kicked out of football camp look like nothing.”

“Will,” Scully began, treading carefully on the topic, “are you talking about hurting people?”

“Yes.”

“Hurt them how?”

“I don’t know. That’s what scares me.”

“William, no matter how you feel about anything, you can tell us; talk to us. We’re not going to be upset with you.” Scully pulled Will into a hug and kissed his hair. “We can work through it together. Your dad and I love you more than anything.”

“Maybe, that’s the problem.”

Scully pulled back with a concerned frown and faced him. “What are you talking about?”

“You focus on me instead of whatever is _actually_ happening. That’s what I meant by collateral damage, Mom. You guys put all your crap on _me_. At this point, I’m the only reason you even have any contact and I can’t shoulder that anymore. This whole movie and pizza thing tomorrow, how’s that going to go? We eat in silence? Watch the movie in silence while sitting awkwardly in Dad’s living room? What are we even gonna talk about, how obnoxiously white Dr. Jake’s teeth are?” He swallowed. “Do you guys even have anything in common anymore, besides me?”

“Dad and I have a complicated history,” Scully began.

“Yeah, I’m Exhibit A,” Will retorted.

Scully chortled. “Besides having an amazing, brilliant, talented son together.” Will frowned, causing her to laugh. “We worked together for years. We were best friends for years. All of that came before you did.”

She thought back to their days on the X-Files. They had been some of her best days and some of her worst. Being with Mulder like that was always an adventure. Part of her wondered if that’s what went wrong, ultimately. Mulder needed adventure; he needed something to chase. When she’d officially left the FBI, she’d taken that from him.

“I know,” Will said, bringing her back to the present. “You were partners at the FBI.”

“It was more than that.” Scully thought for a moment and Will watched her patiently with a look on his face that he’d inherited from Mulder. "When you're in a job like that, the type of unit we were in, we had to rely on each other. But, we’re different people now – we changed, evolved.”

“And, I’m the one thing that you have left in common,” Will said in a tone that threatened to shatter Scully into a million pieces. He was so much like Mulder, taking the weight of the world onto his shoulders when he had no real reason to do so; trying to fix problems he had no business trying to fix, problems that weren’t his own.

“No, we have an entire history in common. That doesn’t just go away.”

Will let out a sigh. “I’m not saying that it should,” he said carefully. “I just think that instead of family counseling, you guys should be the ones in counseling. Let’s face it, the family part won’t get fixed until you guys get fixed. What's the point of going to counseling as a family if you guys can't fix yourselves? It's senseless.”

Scully ran her hand over the back of his head.

“When did you get so smart?”

Will grinned a very Mulder-like grin and said, “I mean, I’ve always been like this but, I’m glad you’re finally noticing.”

Scully chuckled and shook her head. Yep, he was just like his father. She kissed his temple and rose from the piano bench.

“Practice your recital piece. I’m going to get dinner started.”

“Hey, Mom?”

Scully turned to face him. “Yes?”

“Can we not mention the hurting people part to Dr. Jake, please?” he asked.

“It might be good for you to talk about it with him,” she replied carefully.

“I’m not ready to talk about it with anyone.” She let out a sigh but conceded with a nod. “Thank you,” he replied with a sincerity in his voice that Scully hadn’t heard in awhile.

“I love you, William.”

“Love you, too.”

* * *

Mulder checked the clock again. Only two minutes had passed since the last time he’d looked. Letting out a sigh, he grabbed a beer from the fridge.

Will and Scully were coming over for dinner and a movie. Dr. Jake had talked them into a doing some kind of activity together. At first, Mulder thought the kid was an idiot but he found himself grateful for the younger man’s suggestion. They hadn’t had a movie night in… Mulder didn’t know how long. He was surprised by how nervous he was.

Part of him argued that it was just his family, the people he loved more than anything or anyone else on the planet. It was okay; he could relax. The other part promptly reminded him that although he loved them more than anything else on the planet, his family hadn’t lived there in months. This evening _had_ to go well.

Mulder had been a bundle of nerves all day. He wasn’t completely sure what it was about today that had him so anxious. 

When he’d suggested a movie night during his last conversation with his wife, Mulder half-expected Scully to suggest something more public; something with a little less pressure. But, she didn’t. She’d agreed to it on the condition that it was okay with William. They were, after all, supposed to decide on it as a familial unit.

William didn’t seem to care what they did. In fact, he didn’t seem interested at all. Mulder wondered if it was simply because he didn’t like their therapist or if it was because he had a genuine aversion to their family coming back together.

His outburst in Dr. Jake’s office had played on repeat in Mulder’s mind since it happened. He knew his son well enough to know that forcing him to talk about anything would only end badly. Will had a propensity for overreacting in the worst way.

“That wasn’t exactly what I said,” Will said, dubiously, as he entered the house with a pizza box in his hands, catching Mulder off-guard.

“Hey!” Mulder greeted, nearly jumping up from the couch.

“Hey, Dad,” Will said before turning back to his mother as she walked in the house behind him. “I’m just saying that I don’t think it’s necessary.”

Mulder must’ve made a face because Scully said, “We were talking about where we’re doing this next week: here or our house.”

He faced Will, more surprised than he thought he should’ve been, and said, “You don’t want to do this again next week?”

“What is it with the two of you?” he retorted in an exasperated tone. “What I _actually_ said was that I don’t think it’s necessary to do it next week since I have my summer recital and you’ll both be there. Pretty sure that qualifies as a ‘family activity’,” Will elaborated in an annoyed tone.

“Why don’t we cross that bridge when we get there?” Mulder offered. Will shot him a dubious look while Scully shot him an appreciative one.

“So, what are we watching?” Will asked, changing the subject. “I’m hungry.” Mulder opened his mouth to list off his suggestions but, Will beat him to it, “Plan 9 is an automatic no.”

Mulder glanced up to Scully who was poorly attempting to stifle a smirk.

Will set the pizza box on the coffee table and flopped on the couch.

* * *

Will glanced up to his parents from his spot on the floor. Both of them seemed to be dozing off. They were sitting closer to each other on the couch than he would’ve suspected since they’d started out at opposite ends. He wondered if he should say something or just let them fall asleep.

It seemed like an absurd notion. It wasn’t like he really knew what he wanted from all of this. Most kids would vote for their parents to get back together, Will thought, but not him. If he was being honest, he only wanted them to make some kind of a decision. He couldn’t handle living in limbo much longer.

Deciding to keep quiet and let them sleep, Will returned his attention to the movie. His mind drifted away from whatever it was that was happening on the screen.

The evening wasn't the disaster that Will had anticipated. His parents had pleasant conversation; there was even laughter from all three of them. He couldn't stop thinking about what it would mean for their family. Did it mean anything? Did it  _have_ to mean anything? Was this just the completion of a homework assignment? 

Will didn't know which was worse: not knowing or asking and getting an answer he didn't like. He wasn't sure which answer he even wanted to hear. 

* * *

It took a moment for Scully to realize that she’d dozed off. She looked at William and Mulder. They’d dozed off, too, and the movie had returned to the title screen.

Her boys. It took a moment before she shook the thought from her mind. No,  _Will_ was her boy, her son. Mulder? As much as she came to realize that she hated it, she wasn't sure where they stood.

Scully refused to downplay the effort that he was putting in, but part of her still wasn't quite ready to dive back in with both feet. They still had too many things to work through before she could make that decision; things that, if they didn't get sorted, could tear them apart again. She wasn't sure she could go through that a second time.

Quietly, she rose from the couch. The movement must’ve woken Mulder because when she glanced back at him, he was rubbing his eyes.

“I must’ve dozed,” he said simply.

“We all did,” Scully replied with a smile. He stared up at her, blinking away the sleep, for a few seconds. “I’m going go," she said quietly. "I have to be at the hospital early.”

Mulder nodded and rose from the couch, saying, “I’ll walk you out.” He nearly tripped over his son on his way to his wife. “Want me to wake him so you can say goodbye?”

“No, let him sleep. He hasn’t been sleeping very well lately,” she replied. "He needs it." Mulder nodded.

The trek to Scully’s vehicle was silent, awkward.

“Mulder?” she asked, before opening the car door.

“Yeah?” When she didn’t reply quickly enough, he pressed in a concerned tone, “What is it, Scully?”

“Has Will said anything to you about our session with Dr. Hadley?”

“No, he hasn’t. Why?”

She let out a sigh and leaned against the driver’s door. “He said something yesterday that has me a concerned about him.”

“What’d he say?”

Scully debated on whether telling Mulder about Will’s confession. Somehow, it seemed like a betrayal. But, Mulder _was_ Will's father. He should know. Just in case.

Right?

With a sigh, she told him what Will about her conversation with their son.

“He’s never said anything to me about it,” Mulder confessed. “Should we mention it to Dr. Jake?”

“He asked me not to say anything; that he’s not ready to talk about it.” Scully let out a sigh. “All he does is run, text Matty, and play his piano. I’m worried that this aggression of his… if he doesn’t have some kind of an outlet…”

Mulder started to reach out but seemed to realize what he was doing and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Running seems to be doing the trick," he said. "For now, anyway." Mulder paused before continuing. "Will’s smarter than that, Scully; we raised him better than that.”

“You don’t think there’s anything to worry about?” she asked. Mulder looked at her with a look that soothed her, a look she hadn’t seen in his eyes in years.

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “But, William knows that he can come to us -.”

“That doesn’t mean that he will,” she interjected.

Mulder chuckled. “No, it doesn’t. Let’s just… let’s keep an eye on him and if either one of us thinks it’s getting bad enough, we’ll bring it up in therapy. Okay?”

Scully nodded.

"What do you think Dr. Hadley meant when he was asking Will about Matty?" she blurted. Mulder shot her a confused look. "He asked if they were close."

Mulder shrugged. "He was probably just trying to get Will to open up; finding something that he enjoyed talking about. Why?"

"I was just thinking about it and how defensive Will got."

Mulder nodded. "I'm sure he was just fishing for something Will would open up about."

"He blew up after that," Scully deadpanned.

"I didn't say it was the best topic of conversation," he replied with a chuckle. 

They stood in silence for what felt like several minutes before Scully said, “I should go.”

Mulder took a step back, nodding in what looked to Scully like reluctance.

“’Night, Scully.”

“Goodnight, Mulder.”


	11. A Thought Crushed My Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Therapy, confessions, memories, and a concert.

He felt eyes on him. Will tried his best to ignore it but when the feeling didn’t go away, he peered over the top of his book. All three of the adults in the room were staring at him, each with a look of expectancy chiseled on their faces. That was when he realized someone had spoken to him and he’d missed it.

“Huh?” he asked.

“Good book?” his father asked with a frown.

Will cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

“You know, bud, this might go better if you participated,” Dr. Jake said in a friendly tone. It was the complete lack of hostility or condescension in the man’s tone that caught Will off-guard. The idiot actually gave a damn. _That_ was what Will found disconcerting.

“First of all,” he retorted, “I’m not your _bud_. I’m not even a willing client. Secondly, believe it or not, I _can_ actually multi-task. So… continue…”

“Dr. Jake just asked for your opinion on movie night,” his father deadpanned.

Will shrugged. “We ate pizza. We watched a movie.” The nonchalant reply seemed to frustrate his mother.

“So, you’d consider it a success?” Dr. Jake asked, a smile plastered on his idiot face.

“It was _pizza_ and a _movie_ ,” Will replied, slowly, as though talking to a small child. “It’s literally impossible to screw up.” He heard his parents sigh in unison and Will rolled his eyes. “What?”

“You don’t have _any_ other opinions?” his mother asked. Will knew exactly what she was getting at and he shifted uncomfortably before letting out a heavy breath and marking his place in his book. He set the book on the small table in front of him and faced his mother.

“Was I apprehensive? Yes. For a movie that came out in 1999, was it good? Yes. On a scale of one to ten, I give the pizza a six – sauce was a little bitter for my taste.” Scully frowned. “I’m not sure what you want from me here. What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to be honest,” she countered.

“Will,” Dr. Jake said, his tone indicative of preemptively quelling an argument, “you said were apprehensive about spending the evening as a family. Did that stay with you throughout the course of the evening or was it relieved?"

“Little bit of both,” he confessed.

“What about it made you apprehensive?” he asked. “Last week, you mentioned feeling like collateral damage. Did that play a part?”

Will considered the question for a brief moment before sighing. “Yeah, I guess.”

“How so?”

“Well, like I said last week, I feel like this is a waste of time because their problems aren’t about me. Or, maybe, they are. I never know. It’s like…” he paused, exhaling a deep breath. “I told Mom this week that even though I know none of this is my fault, that I feel like I’m the only reason they have any contact and why neither of them can move on. It feels like this counseling thing is for my benefit and I don’t want that responsibility. I can’t carry the weight of these issues when I don’t know what the issues are. So, yeah, when we went to Dad’s, I didn’t know what to expect and I didn’t like that.”

“We’ll circle back to your conversation with Dana in a minute but, first, what was it about that night that made you unsure of what to expect? Specifically. What were you afraid of?”

Will cleared his throat, unsure of how to answer that question. There were so many things that he could say, but none of them seemed like the right thing to say in the moment.

“It’s okay, Will,” his dad said.

Will hesitated a moment longer before finally saying, “I knew it would be the longest amount of time that we’d spent in that house, together, since Mom left. I mean, yeah, we went to New York for my birthday, but that was different. Before we left, it was all awkward silence, tension, and arguments that they pretended I couldn’t hear.”

* * *

Scully’s heart sank. It wasn’t that they were pretending that William couldn’t hear them arguing, it was that they didn’t realize he was listening. Although, if she was being honest with herself, they should have been more responsible about that; they should have known better. Will was too observant not to be listening.

Dr. Hadley studied the teenager, like he was trying to decide how to ask his next question. “Like _you_ were pretending that you couldn’t hear them or _they_ were the ones pretending you couldn’t hear them?”

Will met the psychiatrist’s eyes with a hard, honest gaze. “All of us. They kept on like I couldn’t hear, like I wasn’t around. I kept on like the screaming match downstairs was just something on the TV. I mostly ignored it, but it still burned into my brain.”

Dr. Hadley nodded before facing she and Mulder. “When you hear him say that, what do you think?”

Scully suddenly wondered if this was how Will felt when Dr. Hadley addressed him, when they pushed him for answers that he wasn’t sure how to give. Dr. Hadley’s never-ending patience was suddenly frustrating, she thought.

“Fox?” he prompted and Scully was thankful she had a moment to consider her answer. Not to mention the intrigue she had regarding her husband's position on the revelation.

“I don’t know what to think,” Mulder confessed. “I think if we’d have realized, we would’ve -.”

“What?” Will interrupted. “Taken it outside?” He scoffed. “I doubt that.”

“What you mean?” Scully heard herself ask.

“He barely left his office for _food_. God-forbid he’d leave the _house_  for anything not involving that damn Chewbacca costume.”

The look on Dr. Hadley’s face was priceless, but he didn’t have time to inquire before Mulder corrected Will.  “ _Sasquatch_.”

“’Cause _that_ makes it better,” Will retorted with a smirk. Scully tried to stifle her smirk, but when Mulder shot her a look, it became a battle against laughter instead.

William: 1

Mulder: 0

* * *

Mulder frowned. Chewbacca? _Chewbacca?_ William knew better than that.

Before he could add another comment, Dr. Jake was moving on to Scully and it was Mulder's turn to watch.

“Dana,” the younger man said, “tell me about the conversation you had with Will. From your perspective.”

“He confided in me some things he felt,” Scully replied carefully, before glancing to Will. “We talked about his feelings about being collateral damage, his apprehension about the movie night.”

“I take it from your tone that he elaborated on those?”

“He did,” she replied.

“What did you think when he explained it you?” Dr. Jake asked. Mulder was interested, too, considering that Will hadn’t had that conversation with him.

Will hadn’t talked to him about much, actually, Mulder realized. Sure, they discussed sports and Will’s music, but they hadn’t talked about anything of substance lately. He made a mental note to correct that the next time Will stayed with him.

“I was surprised,” his wife confessed. “Mulder and I have always tried to shield him from our issues. We want him to know that he could trust us with anything and everything. When he told me that he felt like collateral damage, like we were stacking our issues on him, I hadn’t realized that he was partially right.”

“ _Partially_ right?” Dr. Jake asked, beating Mulder to the question.

“Whether we meant to do it or not,” Scully clarified, avoiding Mulder’s gaze. “He’s always been observant; more than I think we’ve given him for being.”

Dr. Jake faced him. “Do you agree, Fox?”

Mulder nodded. “Will’s a bright kid,” he said. He faced his son. Will was staring at the floor. “I think he puts too much pressure on himself.”

“What do you think, Will?” Dr. Jake asked.

“I don’t know to think,” he replied quietly.

“When your parents say things like that, how does it make you feel?”

Will’s hesitation made Mulder’s heart pound. He wanted to know, _needed_ to know, where his son’s head was at. At the same time, he wasn’t sure if he could handle it. Will hadn’t been wrong about anything in these sessions. That, to Mulder, made it worse.

“Angry.” The tone in Will’s voice was resolute.

“Why?”

“I’m tired of being the reason… the _excuse_ … the scapegoat.”

Mulder was stunned. He wasn’t sure if it was Will’s confession itself or the icy tone in his voice that had hit him hardest, but he felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him.

“I don’t want to participate in these ridiculous family activities,” Will continued, “because it just serves to reiterate my perspective: I’m in the middle. I’m not what’s going to fix their issues but, they can’t just avoid them because I exist. They  _have_ to talk; they _have_ to see each other – even if it’s long enough to drop me off or pick me up. I don’t like that.”

“William,” Mulder said before Dr. Jake had a chance to reply, “we don’t want you to feel like that.”

“Well, I do, Dad,” Will retorted. “I do.”

“How do we fix that?” Scully asked.

Will smirked. “Isn’t that why you’re paying him?” he asked, gesturing to Dr. Jake. Mulder couldn’t help but grin.

“Will,” Dr. Jake asked, “your apprehension about family activities, does it have anything to do with this? Your frustration, I mean.”

“It has everything to do with this,” Will replied. “I’m angry all the time and I don’t know why. They don’t bad mouth each other – not around me, anyway; I can’t speak to any other time. My room at Mom’s is almost identical to my room at Dad’s. They’re pleasant – awkward, but pleasant – to each other when I’m around. At the same time, I have my own shit to deal with and I think their limbo just amplifies what I’ve got going on in my head. It just makes everything… louder, somehow.”

“What other things?” Mulder asked. “Your recital?”

“That. New school. New baseball team. I’m still debating on whether or not I’m going to play basketball.” Will let out a sigh. “I just need a break. From both of you.”

Mulder glanced to Scully. She appeared to be thinking the same thing that he was. Their _son_ was needing a break from them. He'd said it in a way that reminded Mulder of when Scully went to stay with her mother.

What had they done to him?

“When you say a break…” Dr. Jake prompted. It was like he knew the silent conversation Mulder shared with his wife. If he _did_ , that put him lightyears ahead of anyone who had worked with them when they were FBI.

“I don’t know, maybe stay with my grandma for a couple of days, if she’s cool with it. I don’t want to talk to either one of them. I don’t want to see them. I don’t mean that in a bad way, but I have a recital in two days and I need to focus on that. I can’t be in either house; there’s too much pressure. I just... need a breather, you know? Clear my head.”

“Fox, Dana, what are your thoughts?”

Neither of them said anything for a long moment, each silently considering Will’s declaration.

“I’m okay with that, if you are; if your mom is...” Mulder said, facing Scully. She seemed unsure. “We said we were going to do whatever needed to be done for him to succeed at the conservatory. If he needs this...”

“Yeah, but, Mulder…”

Scully didn’t need to finish her statement; he knew. Will’s words weighed on his mind, too. He needed to get away from them.

“Scully…”

Mulder saw Dr. Jake shoot a confused look at Will. Will only shook his head.

“They do this all the time; you get used to it,” Will stated matter-of-factly. “While they do their psychic thing, settle this debate for me: my recital. Does it qualify as a family activity, since we’ll all be there?”

“That’s between the three of you,” Dr. Jake replied, amused.

* * *

Maggie glanced up when she heard the fridge door open. She hadn’t heard her grandson come back in the house after his run.

“Don’t get food,” she said. “Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes.”

“I wasn’t,” he replied with a smile and held up a carton of juice.

“How was your run?”

“It was… good,” William replied. “I forgot what running felt like when it isn't to relieve anxiety.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Maggie replied with a smile.

William opened his mouth to say something but his phone chimed in his pocket, demanding his attention. After a moment, he grinned down at it. “Matt says hi.”

“Tell him ‘hello’ for me,” Maggie replied. William began typing away on his phone. “Your mother mentioned that you and Matty have been talking quite a bit.”

“Yeah, we talk all the time.” He shoved the phone back in his pocket. “I’m gonna take a quick shower before dinner.”

“Alright,” Maggie replied with a smile.

“Hey, Grandma?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for letting me stay here.” Will shrugged sheepishly. "I didn't realize exactly how much I needed it."

Maggie walked over to him and pulled her sweaty, smelly grandson into a hug. “You’re very welcome, William.” He smiled the first genuine smile that she’d seen on his face since the barbecue. “Now, go take a shower. Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes.”

* * *

William Mulder had never been one to get nervous when it came to his music. The thrill of playing in front of an audience always made him feel like he was flying. Yet, as he looked out across the stage from behind the curtain, the singular grand piano appeared to be miles further away from him than Will knew that it really was.

He was shaking like a leaf, the nightmares that had been plaguing him the last several months threatening to play out in reality. He shut his eyes and exhaled, attempting to compose himself.

Nope.

He couldn’t do this.

Before he could run away and hide until it was all over, his name was being called.

Will’s feet felt like lead as he made the trek across the stage. His heart pounded in his chest; his stomach knotted. The tie around his neck felt like a noose, choking the life out of him. He tried to will away the oncoming anxiety attack with deep breaths. In through the nose; out through the mouth.

Hoping that no one noticed, he sat down at the bench as Genny exited stage right. Will exhaled a shaky breath as he set the sheet music atop the piano where it belonged.

He could do this. They were only nightmares, dreams; had no basis in reality. 

* * *

Mulder looked at the program in his hand. He didn’t know a damn thing about music but seeing his son’s name in it caused him to swell with pride.

_Prelude No. 25 in C-Sharp Minor, Op. 45 – William Mulder._

He had absolutely no idea what any of that meant beyond the C-Sharp Minor being the key in which Will was playing.

When Will began, Mulder looked up at the stage. His fifteen-year-old son looked so grown up, so professional sitting at the piano. He had always known that Will belonged on a stage like that, playing a piano like that for the masses. But, it wasn’t until he saw it firsthand that Mulder truly knew he would do whatever it took to make sure his son’s dream came true.

As Will played, Mulder recalled the first time Will had noticed a piano. They had been at Maggie’s for a dinner of some kind.

_Mulder peeked into the living room, as asked, to check on William. The three-year-old was standing before the piano, studying it. Will had always been inquisitive but, Mulder had never seen him this interested in something before. Rather than tell the boy not to touch it, he could only watch; wait and see what his son’s next move was going to be._

_He’d asked Maggie about the piano once, having never seen anyone acknowledge its presence in all the time he'd known his mother-in-law. Mulder knew that neither Scully nor Bill played it. Maggie had said that Charlie played it when he was younger; to which Scully countered that her younger brother had only taken four lessons before quitting._

_William climbed onto the bench and stared at the keys for several, long seconds before he started to poke around on it. Mulder watched, fascinated, as his little boy held the notes he liked and moved on from the ones he didn’t. He wasn’t poking around on the keys for noise; he heard something and he was trying to find it. That much was clear. William was answering the call of something that Mulder simply couldn’t hear._

_“William, honey -,” Scully said as she started to walk toward him. Mulder snatched her up on her way over and held her to his chest, resting his head on her shoulder._

_“Listen,” he said quietly. William hadn’t heard his mother over the music in that little head of his. Either that or he was ignoring her. They stood there for a couple of minutes before Mulder asked, “What do you think he hears?”_

_“I don’t know,” Scully replied softly. She hesitated a moment before continuing, “Mulder, I don’t want him over there by himself. He could get hurt.”_

_Mulder released her with a defeated nod. He made his way silently to his son, hoping not to break the boy’s concentration, and sat beside him on the bench. William either didn’t notice or was ignoring him and Mulder was absolutely okay with either one._

_After a while, Mulder pressed one of the keys. William looked up at him with a frown. It was the same look that instilled fear in him when he received it from his wife, but something about it being on his kid’s face was simply adorable._

_“Sorry,” Mulder chuckled and William returned to poking around on the piano again. After letting him play for a couple more minutes, Mulder said, “Alright, little man. Come on."_ _He picked the boy up off the bench only for William to fight him._

_“Not yet!” the three-year-old protested._

_“There are cookies in the kitchen,” Mulder replied with a smirk, trying to entice him with sugar. “Let’s see if we can snag one while Mommy’s not looking.”_

_William glanced back to the piano, hesitant; but, eventually gave in to the bribe of the cookie and allowed Mulder to lead him into the kitchen._

It took a moment before Mulder realized that Scully was leaning into him and that his arm had found its way around her. He tried not to think about it meaning anything. But, it did mean something. At least, it did to him.

Together they watched, mesmerized, as their son shared his talent with the world for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I'm not going to show them in therapy in every chapter from here on out. In fact, this is the last you'll actually see of Dr. Jake for awhile; there will be references, though. Just FYI.


	12. A Clamour and a Whisper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will's nightmares start taking their toll and he begins exhibiting concerning behavior.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okie doke, guys. A couple more chapters and we'll be heading getting into the revival. 
> 
> Sorry it took so long to post this chapter. I went through ten (very literally) rewrites.

Will wasn’t sure what it was that woke him this time. He couldn’t recall dreaming. The clock told him that he’d only slept for three hours. He wasn’t too hot or too cold; neither hungry nor thirsty. Yet, there was an air of apprehension that filled his bedroom.

For exactly twenty-seven minutes, the youngest Mulder watched the digital clock on his nightstand change numbers. When he couldn’t take it anymore, Will rose from his bed and threw on his shorts and shoes, grabbed his ear buds, selected his playlist, and ran until he couldn’t run anymore.

In retrospect, it probably wasn’t the smartest decision. He had absolutely no idea how he was going to make it back to his mother’s house. Will reasoned that he could probably call a cab but, that would only result in waking his mother for cab fare. With a sigh, he slumped onto the curb.

Will wasn’t sure how long he’d spent on the curb, cogitating what had him freaking out, but at some point a police officer pulled up to him and got out of the patrol car.

“You alright, son?” the officer asked.

“Yes, sir,” he replied. The officer didn’t seem to believe him. “I went for a run. Got a cramp.” And, there he was lying to the authorities. Awesome.

The officer looked him over but seemed to believe him.

“Need a ride home?” he asked.

He didn’t mean to chuckle. Really. The officer raised an eyebrow.

“Thank you, officer,” he said rising from his spot on the curb.

The officer was a friendly man – annoyingly talkative for 2:28 in the morning, but Will was grateful for the ride.

“You ran an awful long way from home,” the officer said, pulling up to the curb like Will had asked, to spare him any uncomfortable conversation with his mother should she wake at the wrong time. Which, knowing Will’s luck, was likely to happen. “Ten miles?”

“I’m an athlete,” Will replied sheepishly. “And, stress runner.”

“What do you play?”

“Basketball and baseball,” he replied. “Used to play football, but I’m sitting this season out.”

“Why’s that?”

“New school.”

“Well, good luck to ya,” the officer said.

“Thanks again for the ride… and, helping me out by dropping me off here instead of the driveway.”

The man chuckled.

Will entered the house as quietly as he could and punched the code into the alarm.

“Where were you?” His mother demanded, scaring the living hell out of him.

“Jesus!” He exhaled a couple of deep breaths before saying, “I went for a run.”

“At two in the morning?” she deadpanned. He winced and shrugged. His mother sighed. “Just… go back to bed.”

“Okay. I’m gonna drink some water first, though,” he replied, pointing to the kitchen. His mother nodded before heading back to her room.

Will wondered how long she’d been up and if he’d been the one to wake her. Surely, she’d have come outside after him if he had. Right?

After downing a glass of water, he washed his glass and his mother’s tea mug and went back into his room.

 

“Will?”

The voice seemed far away, almost echoing and he felt himself being shaken.

“William.” This time, although still distorted, the voice was firm.

Finally, his eyes snapped opened. He didn’t have a clue where he was. All Will could hear was the blood pounding in his ears. The air seemed tight around him, forcing the awareness that he was in the throes of a panic attack.

Hands weighed heavily on his shoulders. He wasn’t sure when he’d stopped gasping for breath, but he was suddenly aware that his mother was sitting on his bed, staring at him with nothing but concern.

“You’re okay,” she soothed. “You’re okay.”

Will glanced around. He was in his room. At his mother’s house.

He exhaled heavily and pressed his palms to his pounding head. He was drenched in sweat.

“Sorry,” Will said, unable to get his voice to rise a decibel louder than a whisper.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just… I just need some aspirin.”

He reached for the bottle on his nightstand as his mother said, “What happened?”

“I don’t…. I don’t know.” Will popped a couple of the pills and glanced around the room again.

* * *

Scully watched as William attempted to make sense of his surroundings. He was completely pale, soaked in sweat, and still panting. He dropped his head into his hands again.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, alarm bells going off in her head.

“My head is pounding,” he groaned.

“Look at me,” she said, lifting his chin. Scully studied her son’s eyes. His pupils were a little dilated.

Scully watched William like a hawk, remembering when he was little and used to wake up like this: screaming, soaked, confused, and panting. Every single time scaring the hell out of herself and Mulder. His pediatrician had said they were night terrors and that he would outgrow them. To her knowledge, he hadn’t had a single one since he was eight or nine.

She had always wondered if there wasn’t something more to it given the abilities he’d presented as a baby. Scully remembered the night Jeffrey Spender had injected William. She’d thought Mulder was going to murder his half-brother right in the nursery. But, William’s abilities seemed to disappear after that. At least, they  _thought_ his abilities had gone away. She always wondered if they were truly gone or, rather, suppressed given his inclination to being hyperaware of everything around him, his uncanny ability to always know what she was thinking or feeling. Scully knew Mulder thought about it, too.

Scully pushed the thought out of her mind. No, Will was a normal boy. He was a normal boy who played sports and the piano and was taking piano lessons at a respected conservatory by a Juilliard educated instructor. He read books, articles, and played video games.

Her son was _normal_.

“Mom?” Will asked quietly, getting her attention back on the present. “I think I’m fine now.”

“Are you sure?”

He only nodded, but still looked awful.

“Okay,” she relented, although hesitant to do so. “Go back to sleep.”

Will laid back down but only stared at the ceiling. She knew that something was bothering him – she could feel it, but she knew better than to push him.

Scully rose from the bed and leaned over to kiss his forehead. “If you need anything, come get me.”

He nodded and rolled over to face the other wall.

When Scully woke the next morning, Will was already up. He sat on the couch, coffee at the ready, book in hand. Part of her wondered if he’d been able to get back to sleep. Not that he’d tell her the truth if she asked. He was his father’s son when it came to sleep.

“Morning,” he greeted, without looking up from the book.

“Morning,” she replied. He marked the book and set it on the table as she continued, “How are you feeling?”

“Hungover, actually. But, you know how it is when I’ve had a migraine.”

That, she did. Scully let out a sigh. “Did you get any sleep at all?”

Will shrugged. “I was in and out of it the rest of the night. Pretty sure it was the pounding headache that kept waking me, though.”

“What’s wrong with your arm?” she asked, noticing that he hadn’t moved his left arm since she walked in the living room. He glanced down to it and back up at her.

“It’s fine,” he replied. He was lying.

“William.”

“It just feels weird. That’s all.”

“Weird how?”

“It’s fine, Mom.”

“Weird how?” Scully repeated, the doctor part of her coming out to play. He exhaled loudly. “William.”

“Yes, Dr. Scully?” He retorted.

Scully glared at him. He had that defiant look on his face that he’d inherited from his father; the one Mulder always gave her when he refused to relent on something.

“This could be serious, William.”

“It’s not,” he insisted. “It just feels like… like when you get a dead leg or a Charlie horse or something. Just without the pain.”

“It’s numb?”

“More like heavy. I mean, it’s not like, tingly or anything. Just… weighty.”

“Get dressed,” she told him.

“I haven’t eaten, yet. Or, finished my coffee. I happen to know from experience that _you_ can’t even _function_ without coffee. I’m pretty sure you passed that on to me, too, by the way.”

“Get dressed. You’re coming to the hospital with me.” Will groaned in response. “It’s not up for debate, William. After last night, your arm this morning, I want to make sure that you’re okay.”

“I’m _fine_ ,” he growled.

“Let me be the judge of that.”

“Mom! I am exhausted because I’m constantly going and school hasn’t even started, yet. I’m hauling ass on the piano and, yes, I get stressed out. But, it’s nothing! It was a migraine and a bad dream. I’m not exactly dying.”

“William, your health is more important to me than any of that,” Scully said softly. “ _You’re_ more important to me.” He sighed. “Dad can pick you up at the hospital. Do not give me that look. I said it isn’t up for debate.”

* * *

Mulder entered the hospital to meet Scully and Will, his anxiety sky-high. He wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, beyond Scully telling him that their son had an episode the previous night and they were in the hospital so she could run some tests. Every protective bone in his body screamed that he should’ve been called last night.

“Where is he?” Mulder asked as his wife walked toward him.

“He’s getting dressed,” she replied. “We ran some tests.” She held up a folder. “I just got his results back.”

“What happened?”

Scully sighed. “Last night, I woke up to him screaming bloody murder. When I was finally able to wake him, he was confused, had a headache, was drenched in sweat… His pupils were dilated. It was like when he was little but... worse. This morning, he didn’t have feeling in his left arm. I have him in a sling, but I ran tests and scans just to be safe.”

Mulder ran his hand over his mouth. All of his worst fears regarding his son came to mind: some remnant of the Syndicate or some other branch of some other faceless organization was coming after him. After all these years. Mulder might be powerless to stop them, but he sure as hell wasn’t going down without a fight.

Scully squeezed his hand, getting his attention. She had that knowing look in her eyes. He loved that look; missed it. It somehow always seemed to remind him that she loved him, even when he couldn’t understand how she could.

“He’s okay, Mulder,” she said softly. “Just keep an eye on him. _Please_. If anything out of the ordinary happens, call me.” She handed a piece of paper to him. “Get this filled and make sure that he takes it.”

“What is it?” Mulder asked, sounding far more dubious than he’d intended, as he looked at the prescription.

He didn’t have a clue what any of it meant.

“Something to help him relax. His prescribing doctor thinks that this is possibly stress related; that his stress triggered his migraine and everything else. I agree.”

Mulder was hit by a wave a surprise. “You didn’t write this?”

Scully smirked. “It’s unethical to write a prescription for a controlled substance for my own son.” There was something in her voice that said he probably should’ve known that. Nevertheless, she continued. “Make sure he takes it as directed. We’ll get him on something more permanent if it helps.”

Mulder nodded and asked, “Anything else I should know?”

“Just keep an eye on him,” she replied. Mulder recognized the concerned tone in her voice. She’d used it on him over the years. Usually, when he’d done something stupid in the field that resulted in some kind of bodily harm. Will called it her _mom voice_. “Watch for slurred speech, trouble walking and talking, his coordination. He’ll probably get lightheaded or dizzy, but that’s okay. It’ll also make him drowsy.”

“So, he’ll get cranky. Got it.”

Scully chuckled. “Yeah.” She looked him in the eye. “I already called the conservatory.”

“I bet he’s happy,” Mulder groaned. He was going to have his hands full for the next few days. Will unable to play the piano was worse than any kind of torture. And, not just for his son.

“Yeah,” Scully sighed. “He, uh, he made his opinion on missing today’s lesson very clear.”

“He’s more important than the piano.”

“I said the same thing.”

Of course, she did.

Scully motioned for Mulder to follow her. A couple of hallways later, they stopped outside of an exam room and Scully knocked on the door. “Will?”

“Come in,” their son said from the other side of it.

They entered the room and Will held up the sling with a pathetic look on his face.

“I can’t get it,” he said helplessly.

Mulder watched as Scully took the sling and got it adjusted for him. There was always something about watching Scully tend to their son that sent a bolt through Mulder and left him amazed.

She really was an incredible mother, despite being too hard on herself. Will hadn’t exactly been the easiest kid to deal with for the last several months.

Mulder wondered if part of all of this had something to do with their separation and he made a mental note to bring it up while he had some time alone with Will.

“Wear this until you get feeling back in your arm, okay?” Will shot her a glare. “I’m serious, William.”

“Better listen to her, bud,” Mulder added.

“You’re supposed to be on _my_ side,” Will retorted, frowning in his direction.

“Not this time. She’s the one with a medical degree.” Scully shot him an appreciative look and Mulder changed the subject before Will could protest any further. “You hungry?”

“I’m starving. Mom didn’t let me eat breakfast.”

Scully rolled her eyes and Will grinned. God, Mulder missed this; missed these types of interactions.

“I guess it’s a good thing I’m here,” Mulder said with a smirk. He faced his wife. “I can’t believe you’d starve our only child.”

“Neither can the only child!” Will quipped.

“Get out of here,” Scully said, although obviously amused. “Both of you.”

Will hopped off the exam table. Scully hugged him, kissed his hair, and told him that she loved him. He responded in typical teenaged boy fashion: huffing and rolling his eyes.

Mulder led Will out to the car, carrying his duffle bag in one hand and his backpack in the other. Will had protested, saying the he wasn’t an invalid but, Mulder refused to let him carry anything.

“So… where to, Pops?” Will asked when Mulder joined him in the vehicle.

“ _Pops_?” Will shrugged with a smirk. “Maybe, we should go back up to Mom. I think 'Pops’ qualifies as odd behavior.” Will rolled his eyes in that inherited Scully fashion making his father laugh. “We have to get your prescription filled and then we’ll grab some food.”

“Better idea: food first. Pills later.”

* * *

Will jerked awake. His throat was dry and he gasped for air. It took a moment to realize that he was at his dad’s, in his own room. He closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing. This whole waking up with a panic attack thing was getting really old.

No matter how hard he tried, Will couldn’t shake the dreams or the things he saw in them. The death and decay. It was too much.

Will glanced to the clock. He’d slept for a solid five hours. Once he got his breathing under control, he made his way downstairs.

“Dad?” he asked, realizing the house was silent.

Nothing.

Will checked his father’s office to find it vacant. He looked around for a note, something that said he’d gone to the store or for a walk. Will peeked out the window. His dad’s car was still in the driveway. Frowning, he went to the back door.

“Dad?” he called. “Dad!”

Silence.

“Where the hell are you?” Will asked to no one in particular.

He caught sight of the useless barn. The light inside was on. Thinking his father might be in there for whatever unknown reason, Will made his way over.

He stopped abruptly before reaching the entrance, horrified and appalled by the scene before him. He tried to back away, tried to get out of there, to call his mother, but he was frozen. The light shining down on him pierced painfully through him so that all he could do was scream.

* * *

Mulder practically fell off the couch when he heard Will’s blood-curdling scream and ran upstairs as fast as he could. Will was writhing on his bed, screaming bloody murder.

“Will!” Mulder said, trying to wake the boy and avoid being hit in the process. It didn’t work. “Will!” Nothing. “William!”

Will jerked awake, sitting straight up in bed, with his good fist cocked.

“Whoa-whoa-whoa! It’s me! It’s Dad!” Mulder said, putting his hands up defensively. “It’s Dad.”

Will panted heavily, but there was a dangerous look in his eyes. One Mulder hadn’t seen before.

“You’re okay,” he said, more calmly now that he seemed to have his son’s attention. “It was a dream. You’re alright.”

Will looked around the room. He didn’t seem entirely convinced. Mulder placed a hand on Will’s shoulder and the boy lowered his fist, exhaling loudly in the process.

“I’m good,” Will said. It was Mulder’s turned to be unconvinced. “It was just a nightmare. Or… the day version of one,” he said, checking his watch. He’d only slept for an hour, not five.

“That’s not funny, Will.” Will only rubbed his eyes with his good hand. “What was the dream?”

“I don’t remember.”

Mulder studied him. Will was lying. But, he didn’t need training as a profiler to know that. He didn’t even need his psychology degree. That was what he found most disturbing.

Will had been lying a lot lately when it came to the things that were bothering him, be it dreams or the issues that caused him to explode during therapy. He gave his mother’s typical, downplayed response only to worry them all over again.

Being a parent was hard.

“I’m going to call Mom,” Mulder finally replied, rising from the bed.

“Dad,” Will groaned. “It’s just the pills.”

“I don’t think so.”

“That the degree talking or my father?” Will bit back.

“This is the second time in two days that you’ve woken up screaming,” Mulder replied firmly. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“I read that crap ton of papers that the pharmacist gave us. I know weird dreams are a side effect.” Mulder must’ve made a face because Will added, “I don’t think night terrors can come back once you’ve gotten over them.”

“I think they have, William,” Mulder replied firmly, knowing exactly what his son was doing.

Will rolled his eyes before meeting his father’s gaze again.

“There’s nothing I can say here, is there?” Will asked, obviously irritated but defeated nonetheless.

“No,” Mulder retorted as he headed toward the door.

* * *

 Scully slowed the car to a stop. Mulder was sitting on the porch, waiting for her. He walked toward her as she shut off the vehicle and got out of it.

“Is he okay?” she asked, worry ever-present in her voice.

“He’s angry that I called,” Mulder admitted. It felt more to Scully like a heads up than a confession.

“How bad was it?”

“I’m guessing it was as bad as when he woke you.” Scully let out a sigh as he continued, “I think he needs to see someone – outside of Dr. Jake or Dr. Jake in his own sessions.”

“I’m starting to think that you’re right,” she agreed with a sigh. “How’s his arm?”

Mulder led them into the house as he replied, “You’ll have to ask Will. He’s in his room. Sulking.”

She set her purse on the coffee table and followed Mulder up the stairs. She wasn’t at all surprised to see Will sitting at his desk, reading.

“William?” she asked. He turned around. She could feel his anger. “What happened?”

“Ask Dad,” he growled. “He seems to have it all figured out.”

“William.” This time, her tone was firm. Scully was not about to play this game with him.

“It was a bad dream,” Will snarled. “You guys are making something out of nothing. It’s annoying as hell, too.”

Scully cast a glance to Mulder before the two of them sat on the edge of Will’s bed.

“Tell us about the dreams, Will,” she pressed. “You’ve been having nightmares for months now. You’ve woken up screaming -.”

“Twice. I’ve already gotten this lecture.”

“William,” Mulder said.

“I don’t remember the damn dreams!” Will let out a frustrated growl. “They’re _just nightmares_! Everyone gets them.”

“Not everyone wakes up screaming and almost punching out their old man,” Mulder retorted. Scully looked at him. He’d neglected to mention that.

“I’m fine,” he snarled.

“Yeah, you look it,” Mulder countered. Scully placed a hand on his knee. This wasn’t helping. William shot a look at his father that made both of his parents stiffen. It was a dangerous look that Scully couldn’t even begin to describe.

William rose from his chair and started toward the door.

“Sit,” Scully heard herself bark at him. William and Mulder both gave her the same shocked look. “We’re not finished.” Will’s furious gaze met her frustrated one. “Now.”

Grinding his teeth, Will obeyed.

“What is going on?” she asked slowly, firm.

Will sighed and Scully felt some of the anger subside. “I don’t know,” he confessed. “Okay? I’m sorry but, I don’t. All I know is that I’m pissed off all day, have nightmares all night, and right now, I can’t even play my piano to quiet my brain.”

“So, what can we do to fix it?”

“I don’t even know what _it_ is!” Scully felt the anger rising in him again and desperately racked her brain for a way to quell it.

“What about talking to someone?” Mulder asked. “We can get you a separate appointment with Dr. Jake -.”

“Dr. Jake can fuck right off. He’s a fucking idiot. I don’t need a shrink.”

Scully fought the urge to reprimand Will for his language. He needed to calm down and she knew it would only exacerbate the situation.

“Maybe, it’s not a bad idea, Will,” she offered. “You don’t have to talk to Dr. Hadley. We can find someone else, someone that you’re comfortable with.”

Her son’s flaming eyes met her concerned ones. She looked to Mulder to help ground her. It wasn’t until Will screamed that they realized he’d noticed their silent conversation; it set him off. They looked in time to see him throw one of his prized snow globes across the room, shattering it against the furthest wall.

“That is enough, William!” Mulder snapped, jumping up from the bed.

Will looked around the room like he wasn’t sure what had just happened. Scully felt confusion replace the anger. Something was seriously wrong with him.

He slumped back into the desk chair and ran his good hand over his face before his terrified gaze met his mother’s concerned one.

“What the hell his wrong with me?” He asked, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. Scully moved over to him and wrapped her arms around him. She kissed her son’s hair and met Mulder’s gaze as Will wept into her abdomen.

He pulled away suddenly with an “I’m gonna puke,” as he ran toward the bathroom. A few seconds later, they heard him vomiting.

“We need to make an appointment for him,” Mulder said. “Soon.”

Scully sighed but nodded in agreement.

”Scully.” She looked up at her husband and he pointed behind her. 

Every single one of Will’s snow globes had somehow shattered, the liquid inside dripping from the shelf to the floor.

She looked back at Mulder. His look matched her own.

What in the hell was going on?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the numbness in the arm that Will experienced is a real thing. In the case of migraines, it's rare (yes, I'm setting up for some revival stuff!) but it does happen. And, let me tell you, it's a bitch (happens to me when I get a bad enough migraine).


	13. My Mother's Only Son

Will woke slowly to find himself staring at the ceiling. There was a strange sense of calm that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

The voices murmuring in the kitchen caught his attention. His parents. In the same house. Having a civil conversation. Hell, having _a_ conversation without his conscious presence, or Dr. Jake, being required.

“I’m worried about him, Mulder,” his mother said quietly. “He’s having nightmares again, his arm, his temper-.”

“He’s always had a little bit of a temper,” his father countered quietly.

“Not like this and you know it.”

Will heard his father sigh as his mother continued, “Not to mention, he’s been sleeping a lot lately.”

“Scully, he’s exhausted.”

“Mulder, you said it yourself that he slept almost the entire time that he was here last week.”

“He’s exhausted,” his father said again.

"What about his snow globes?" she challenged.

Will stopped moving. What was wrong with his snow globes?

"I can't explain that any more than you can," his father replied. “Hey!”

Will didn’t realize he’d made his way into the kitchen until he saw his father smile at him and his mother turn around in her chair.

“Hey,” he replied, still groggy.

“How are you feeling?” his mother asked.

“Better,” Will replied. “Hungry, actually.”

He slid into a seat at the table as she got up and headed to the fridge.

“We got Chinese,” she said, pulling the take-out container from the fridge. “We ordered some of that chicken lo mien that you like.”

“Thanks,” Will said, looking her with his right arm hanging off the chair. “I think my arm’s getting better. It’s tingling all over.”

“I got it,” his father said, taking over reheating Will’s food so his mom could come over to check him out. She helped him out of his sling.

“An exam?” He said with a smirk. His mom frowned and he laughed.

“Can you feel this?”

Will yelped. “Yes, _mother_! I can actually feel it when you pinch me _really freakin' hard_.” He rubbed on his bicep with a frown as his mother fought a smirk. “For the record, I’m pretty sure that borders on child abuse.”

“I barely touched you,” she replied losing her battle with the smirk as she helped him back into his sling.

“We’ll that put to the test when I bruise,” Will grumbled in return.

“Well, he’s being dramatic again,” his father said, setting the plate in front of him. “That’s a good sign.”

“You want dramatic? I dare you to touch my lo mien.”

“He’s back,” Mulder laughed. Will couldn't help but to grin. He really was feeling infinitely better than he had been the last several days.

After several bites, Will asked, “When will I be able to use my arm again?”

“Don't talk with your mouth full," his mom retorted before sighing and answering his question. "Will, we don’t even know what caused it.” She paused before adding, “Your test results came back fine.”

“You think I’m lying?” He asked, hurt.

“No, of course not! I just want to get you checked out again... just to be safe.”

Will’s only response was a sigh. He didn’t exactly have the mental fortitude at the moment to argue with her.

Suddenly, he felt anxiety that didn’t belong to him. He looked at her, forkful of lo mien just outside of his mouth.

“What’s wrong?” he asked before taking the bite.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she replied.

Will arched an eyebrow as he chewed. His father watched silently. He looked, to Will, like he was waiting for some reaction; like he was bracing for impact.

“Really, Will. Nothing’s wrong.” She glanced to his father and then looked back at him. “We want you to talk to someone. A psychiatrist.”

He felt his eyes narrow as he swallowed the bite. “Why? We already see Dr. Jake on a weekly basis.”

“Because something’s going on with you and we don’t know what it is,” his dad said, finally contributing to the conversation.

“If you don’t want to talk to us, that’s okay,” his mother added, “but, we want you to see someone. I think this is a somatic manifestation of your anxiety.”

“I have absolutely no idea what that means,” Will retorted.

“It means that I think all of the stress and anxiety you’ve had lately is causing your body to react,” she explained. "It triggered your migraine which caused you to lose feeling in your arm."

“Wait… my arm doesn’t work because I got a migraine because I was stressed out; so, essentially, my arm doesn’t work because I’m stressed out?” He glanced to his father and then back to his mother. They had to be joking. “You’re making that up; that’s not a real thing.” The look on his mother’s face as she sighed clearly said otherwise. Will lowered his fork, but refused to meet her gaze as he quietly asked, “Will it fix me?”

“You’re not broken, Will,” his dad said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “But, this is a real thing. Do you know what happened earlier?”

Will thought hard. He’d gotten angry, he remembered that much. Then, he threw up. Then, he woke up on the couch. The rest was a complete blank. He shook his head.

“Not really,” he confessed.

“You got so angry that you blacked out. You shattered _all_ of your snow globes. Then, you got sick and passed out on the couch,” his mother informed him, caution present in her tone. “You slept for eleven hours. Do you even remember coming downstairs?”

“I thought it was just the pills,” Will replied, weakly.

“You wouldn’t see that kind of a side effect after one day. You only took one dose. Dry mouth, getting tired, yes; but, not something like that,” his mom said with a tone he couldn’t really decipher.

“Why was I so mad?” He asked, not sure if he really wanted to know.

“We’d like to know that, too,” his dad replied. “You snapped, kid.” Will took a sip of water to give himself time to think as his father added, “Do you remember telling me how everything makes you angry lately?” Will nodded. “Where was your head?”

He thought about it for a moment. Nothing came to mind.

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “I don’t… remember.”

“That’s why we want you to talk to someone,” his mom said. “We’re worried about you, Will.”

Suddenly, he didn’t have appetite anymore. Will set the fork on the plate and sighed. He thought for a moment before saying, “Okay.”

He felt his mother relax. They sat in silence for awhile before his mother finally broke it. “Do you want to stay here tonight or do you want to come back with me?”

“Scully,” his father said. “It’s almost three in the morning…”

Will felt his mother’s apprehension. He also knew that tone in his father’s voice. It was a painful desperation. He’d heard it from him at the end of a couple of their movie nights.

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he pressed. Will could tell that she didn’t want to stay and, on some level, it seemed like his father got that, too. But, she also didn’t want to stay away from _him_. In all honesty, Will didn’t want to leave if he didn’t have to and, although he’d never admit it, he wanted his mom.

“Alright,” she conceded.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Will said, feeling the sudden urge to get out of the tension that threatened to suffocate him. "I feel... disgusting."

“Aren’t you going to finish eating?” his mom asked.

“I guess I wasn’t as hungry as I thought,” he replied. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” his father replied.

 

The hot water had done nothing to ease the tension in his muscles. Not that attempting a shower with one reliable arm was an easy feat. He tried to ball a fist with his left hand. It did nothing but continue to tingle annoyingly.

Will wiped the steam from the mirror and stared at himself. The reflection staring back at him was pathetic one. That unnerved him more than anything.

He’d waited for this for so long: his family together and at home, like old times. But, for some reason, it felt wrong. It wasn’t as irritating as it had been before his mom took him to stay with his grandmother. At least then there had been some sense of belonging left, some sense of home.

This didn’t feel like that. It felt like he was in a house of cards and one wrong breath would send it crashing down.

He hated that feeling.

With a sigh, he toweled off and got dressed.

The next thing Will knew, he was throwing up again.


	14. No Blood; No Foul

Summer was coming to a close, he realized. He was dreading it. Not because Will Mulder particularly enjoyed this summer. It was, in fact, one of the worst – if not _the_ worst – summers he could remember having.

At the end of the season, he would have survived his parents’ separation, gotten kicked off the football team, spent way too much time around hospitals, started two therapy sessions per week – one for himself; the other family therapy, and spent countless hours blocking it all out on his piano. It was a hell of a way to spend what used to be his favorite season. Used to be. He huffed to himself. That was in the past.

“You okay?” his father asked, jolting Will out of his reverie.

He looked up from his plate to find his father staring at him. “Yeah,” he said, not that his dad seemed to be convinced. “I’m fine,” Will insisted. “Just… thinkin’.”

“Want to talk about it?”

Will snorted derisively. “All I do is talk about things anymore.” He let out a sigh and reached for his drink.

Ever since his blackout a couple of weeks ago, everyone seemed to walk on eggshells around him. He wasn’t sure how much more of that he could take.

“Thinking about your new school?” his dad pressed.

“Among other things.”

The last thing Will wanted to do was talk about it. There was a moment of silence before Will spoke up again. “It’s just the notion that I was an up-and-comer at my old school. You know? Now, I’m right back at the bottom.”

It wasn’t a total lie. That had been occupying his brain for a bit.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Will scoffed and his father continued, “No, really. You’re an incredible baseball player. You’re studying at a prestigious conservatory. You’re intelligent or you wouldn’t have gotten into that school in the first place.” His dad sipped his drink before continuing. “You have a lot going for you, Will.”

“Just gotta be myself and all that?”

His dad grinned. “You said it.”

Will sighed. “I don’t know, Dad. I just… want some sense of normalcy, you know. Like, is that too much to ask?”

“I hate to break it to you, kid, but you’re a Mulder; normalcy doesn’t exist for us.”

“Awesome,” Will sighed.

He knew it was meant to be a joke but it seemed like the truth when he considered the facts about his family. His parents were former FBI agents who did God-knew-what but it wasn’t normal. His mother was a doctor. His father was a hermit. He lived in a robot house.

Yeah… he didn’t stand a chance at being normal.

No wonder his only friend was his cousin.

* * *

Mulder watched Will as his son merely picked at the fries on his plate. Something else was bothering him, but he couldn’t place what. He didn’t want to push. Pushing Will to do or talk about anything he didn’t freely offer would only push him over the edge. They’d learned that from experience. And, not just from his blackout.

The blackout.

No matter how hard he tried to move on from that night, Mulder seemed stuck in it. It wasn’t that he thought of his son any differently, but he _was_ concerned. Will had managed to shatter every single one of his snow globes – the things that brought him peace from the time he was a little boy – without so much as laying a finger on them.

It was an X-File in itself.

Mulder quickly forced the thought from his mind. Scully would murder him if she knew he’d just referenced the X-Files in regard to their child. Not that he would blame her.

The X-Files hadn’t been part of their lives for years and there was a reason for that.

Not only had Mulder died at one point, but he’d also been fired from the FBI. Fired. Although, truth be told, he’d essentially asked to be. Then, Will was born and Scully had moved on from the X-Files to teach at the Academy, leaving the X-Files in the semi-capable hands of Agents Doggett and Reyes.

Occasionally, Mulder had done some consulting work when it was absolutely necessary. But, he’d been content for a long time to simply stay at home with his son. It wasn’t like they couldn’t afford it. He had plenty of money from his parents’ estates. Not to mention, Scully still worked.

Then, she’d quit the FBI and went back into medicine. Most of the time, she seemed happier in medicine. He’d always been grateful for that.

There would always be part of him that missed the X-Files, missed the mystery of it; the chase. But, that part of his life was in the past. He had a son who needed him and he had a marriage to fix. Those were his priorities.

“Dad.”

Mulder looked up to find Will staring at him. “What?” Will frowned. “What?”

“I’ve been sitting here yammering on and you’ve been a million miles away.”

“Sorry…”

“We have to go. I have to be at the school in like thirty minutes and it’s lunch hour traffic.”

Right, Mulder mused. Will was picking up his schedule today. His son was officially a sophomore in high school.

Will seemed to be doing better, Mulder noticed suddenly. Scully had mentioned that he was still running a lot more than the average person, but given their boy’s aggression, anxiety, and anger, Mulder couldn’t really blame him. To his knowledge, Will’s headaches had mostly subsided and he seemed far more relaxed than Mulder had seen him in a while – despite his current display of anxiety.

He and Will had even been having more substantial conversations lately. They talked about astronomy and philosophy, books and movies; they’d even discussed articles Will had read regarding current topics in psychology – which, Mulder had to admit he found surprising. Will had never shown much interest in the subject unless it involved music. But, he’d often sent his father links to articles he’d found and called him to get his opinion.

Naturally, they still discussed all things sports related. How the Yankees were playing this season. Their predictions on the Knicks’ season.

Mulder was not taking it for granted.

Will normally talked to his mother about substantial topics. Mulder was the one he talked pop culture and sports with.

Even therapy was going well. Movie night had become a regular thing – Mulder’s favorite night of the week. Every week, they alternated in picking a movie.

Things with Scully were looking up, too. They’d had coffee together the other day, while Will was at the conservatory and just talked. They’d talked about their son, about her job, about how he was doing. They talked about Maggie.

The only topic that still seemed to be carefully avoided was their relationship. While Mulder desperately wanted to beg her to move back home, he continually fought the urge. He knew her better than that; it would only push her further away. She was finally starting to come back around to him – nine months after leaving his sorry ass. He wasn’t about to push his luck.

“ _Dad_!”

“What?”

“We have to leave.”

“Right.” Mulder cleared his throat and motioned for the check.

The sat in silence for a moment while they waited for their server.

“So, um…” Will began, almost sheepishly. “Are you taking me school shopping or is Mom?”

Mulder thought for a brief moment. He and Scully actually hadn’t discussed it, he realized. She was usually the one who went school shopping with Will. They usually got his clothes and supplies. Mulder usually took him for his school schedule, athletic equipment, and any last-minute items that had been forgotten.

This year, however, was different. Will was attending a new school and they didn’t live with Mulder anymore.

“That’s a good question,” Mulder replied. “I’d assume we’re doing what we usually do. But, we can wait and ask Mom later if you want.”

Will nodded but Mulder could see that his answer hadn’t quite satisfied his son.

“What do you want to do, Will?”

“I don’t know,” Will sighed. “Everything’s so different this year. I guess, I just didn’t know what to expect.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Mulder replied softly. After filling out the ticket, Mulder put his card back in his wallet and said, “Come on. Let’s go get your schedule.”

* * *

The school was smaller than Will was used to but larger than he’d remembered it being. Maroon and white lockers lined the halls. The common area had a penguin on it.

Penguin.

What a stupid mascot, he thought to himself. No wonder this school continually got its ass kicked in sports. Who the hell wanted to be a penguin?

Finally, he’d found his last class. God, he hated this school already and it didn’t even start until Monday.

He was ready to get out of there. 

* * *

“Yo, Spooky!” a voice said from behind them.

For a moment, Mulder thought someone was calling to him. It’d been plenty of years since someone had referred to him by that nickname; not that it didn’t still make him cringe. It wasn’t until he caught sight of Will’s stiff form that he realized he wasn’t the one being addressed. His son was.

A surge of something Mulder couldn’t begin to describe washed over him. He wanted to defend his son, to tell off the little shit that was walking toward them with his friend. But, he’d grown up with a name like Fox and knew better. Will had to handle this. Although, if he was being honest, Mulder was apprehensive about how he would do so. His kid, he hated to admit, had a propensity for solving problems with his fists.

“Spooky!” The other boy said. “My boy was talking to you.”

Will exhaled a heavy breath and turned around, his demeanor changing to a less defensive one that piqued Mulder’s interest.

“I’m sorry,” Will said, “I don’t speak dipshit. Mind translating for me?”

Mulder fought a smirk and felt a twinge of pride at his son’s form of verbal sparring. Why hadn’t he ever thought to say something like that?

He was vaguely aware that the kid said something else until Will had pummeled the him to the ground and was about to take a swing. Mulder caught his arm just in time.

“William!” He said, pulling his son off of the other boy. “Knock it off!” Will lunged forward again, but Mulder had too firm a grasp on him. “Let’s go,” he said firmly, nearly dragging Will toward the car.

When they were far enough away from the other boys, Will stopped struggling.

“What was about?” Mulder asked, forcing himself to remain calm.

“Nothing,” Will bit back.

Mulder fought the urge to vocally disagree. Will had enough of Scully in him for Mulder to know better. So, he kept his mouth shut until they were in the car and the school was out of sight.

“That was kid from camp, wasn’t it?” Mulder asked. “The one that got you kicked out?”

“Was the jersey a dead giveaway?” Will retorted.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Nope.”

Mulder let out a sigh, hoping that Scully wanted to have coffee again today while Will was at the conservatory. This was probably a development they should discuss.

* * *

“He _what_?” Scully asked. Mulder winced. “Mulder, what happened?”

“I don’t know,” her husband confessed. “The kid said something to him, Will made a… rather witty comeback, and the next thing I knew, I was pulling him off the other kid.”

“It’s not even the first the day of school and he’s already fighting again,” she sighed, irritated. They were going to have a serious conversation about this when they got home.

“Scully…”

She looked up at him, daring him to tell her that Will didn’t deserve to be punished for starting a fight. Instead, Mulder only let out a sigh.

“What, Mulder?” she demanded, trying to remain calm.

“It was the same kid from camp, I think. The one he got in trouble for fighting before? He said something and, honestly, I don’t blame Will for getting upset.”

Scully felt her brow furrow. “What’d he say?”

For a moment, Mulder didn’t answer. She arched an expectant eyebrow and he let out another sigh.

“He called him ‘spooky’.”

Scully’s mind went completely blank. She certainly wasn’t expecting that.

“He’s being bullied?”

“I don’t know. He refused to talk about it.”

“Do you think…?” she began but couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. The last thing she wanted to do was think about their time at the FBI.

“I don’t know,” he replied as if reading her mind. “I don’t think it had anything to do with me. Which begs the question: why?”

“And, he wouldn’t tell you?” she clarified.

“No, but he was pissed.” Scully watched as Mulder sipped his coffee. “I just… I just thought you should know.”

“Thank you,” she replied before sipping her own coffee. She probably wouldn’t have known if Mulder hadn’t told her. “Fighting again…” she sighed. “How do you want to handle this?”

Mulder nearly choked on his drink. “Me?” he asked in surprise.

Scully shrugged. “He was with you when it happened.”

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “I figured you’d want to handle it. I mean, he lives with you.”

“Well, we have to do something.” It sounded harsher than she’d meant it but, Mulder being Mulder seemed to pick up on that.

“Let’s talk to him about it. Together. I think that, if he’s being bullied, it might be better for us to be on the same page with it.”

Scully nodded. It was certainly logical.

“Should we bring it up with Dr. Hadley?” she asked.

“I don’t think so,” he replied. “Unless, Will wants to talk to him about it.” He grinned a confident grin that Scully hadn’t seen in years and added, “I think we can handle this one.”

She couldn’t fight a smirk.

* * *

Will arched an eyebrow when his parents had been silent for too long. The tension emanating from him wasn’t lost on Scully.

“Why do I feel an intervention coming on?” he quipped, before sipping his Mountain Dew and popping a chip into his mouth. “By the way, you’re ruining my Mexican place for me. The last few times we’ve come here it’s been for something you think is serious.”

“You tell us,” Mulder retorted.

Will glanced to her and then back at his father. “You told her.” There was an accusation in his voice that made Scully glance to Mulder. She half expected him to wince, but his face betrayed no emotion.

“Yes, I did.”

“Why?” Will asked, drawing out the word.

“Because she’s your mother. You live with her. If you’re going to be fighting, she should have a heads up.”

“William,” Scully interjected before the conversation could turn into a juvenile pissing contest between her boys. “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he retorted.

“It does matter,” she replied firmly. “What happened?”

“He pissed me off; I tackled him. I would’ve hit him, too, but Dad pulled me off before I could.”

“William, you can’t just go around hitting people!” Mulder said. “It’s going to get you arrested.”

“He deserves it.”

“That doesn’t matter,” his father replied firmly.

“What happened at camp?” Scully asked. “It was the same kid, right?”

Will exhaled a heavy breath and said, “Yeah. Same kid.”

“So, what happened at camp?” she asked again.

When Will didn’t respond, Mulder took the reins. “He called you ‘spooky’, Will. Why?”

“A few of us snuck out of the dorms. I told a spooky story; scared the hell out of them. He started taking jabs at me after that. I put him in his place.” Scully could see him getting worked up. “I’m not taking it from him at school, either. I won’t. I’ll kick his ass into next week if it gets the message across.”

“William,” Scully sighed. This was not going how she’d pictured it.

“I’m just saying,” he said and leaned back in his seat. He wasn’t backing down from this and Scully could only wonder what kind of school year she could expect. She glanced to Mulder. He seemed to be thinking the same thing she was.


	15. Just Like In The Movies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to give you guys one last bit of semi-family fluffiness before we dive back into the meat of the story. :)
> 
> Enjoy! We're back in therapy next chapter! :P
> 
> SIDE NOTE: sorry for typos. This has not been beta'd. I'll read through it a couple of times to see if I catch anything (and, subsequently, edit).

Will finished the piece and looked to his instructor with a self-satisfied smirk. She was impressed. He could see it. That was what she got for underestimating him.

“Well?” He asked when she didn’t say anything.

“It was good.”

“Oh, come on! I kicked ass!” Will exclaimed.

“I wouldn’t say ‘kicked ass’,” she replied with a frown. “Your technique was weak – like, you couldn’t decide what you wanted to do with it. But, as far as the music itself, I counted no mistakes.”

Will smirked again. “So… I kicked ass.” He smiled widely as she reached into her bag and pulled out a thicker piece of music than he’d seen since he started studying with her. She held it out to him. He took it warily.

“What’s this?” he asked, opening the music and looking it over.

“Your recital piece.”

“Already?” He asked, looking up at her. “It’s September.”

“You’ll need the extra time. Trust me.”

Will read through the music. She wasn’t joking. It was the hardest thing he would ever attempt to play.

“You sure I’m ready for this?” he asked. “The recital’s in December…”

“Will, you are, hands down, the most improved student that I have. You’ve taken everything I’ve thrown you in stride. You’ve proved me wrong at every turn.”

“I _am_ kind of a bad ass, huh?”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” she admonished. “You’re getting better. If I’m being honest, I didn’t think you’d last long enough for your summer recital piece, let alone do as well as you did.”

Will felt his jaw tighten. It was a backhanded compliment and he took it as such. He needed to master this, he told himself. If he couldn’t master this piece by the time his recital rolled around, he had no business even _applying_ to Juilliard.

“You don’t think I can do it,” he said quietly.

“I’ve learned not to bet against you,” she replied. “The better question is: will you have it perfect enough to play the finale?”

Will’s head snapped up to meet her gaze. She wasn’t joking. “I’m a contender for the winter finale?”

“If you keep playing like you have been, yes.”

Will felt like the wind was knocked out of him. The finale. The most coveted spot in the recital and he was on the list. Yeah, he _had_ to master this.

“I won’t let you down,” he whispered.

“Good,” she replied and pulled out a much smaller piece of music from her bag. “Learn this for next week.”

Will snorted in amusement. “You’re such a sadist.”

* * *

“Hey!” Mulder greeted as his Will slid into the chair across from him. “I didn’t realize you were out of your lesson already.”

“There is no already about it. It’s been an hour.” Will looked around. “Where’s Mom?”

“She had to run to the hospital for a little bit,” Mulder said, completely aware that his disappointment was showing. Will nodded awkwardly. He pointed to the extra beverage on the table. “That’s yours.”

“Thanks,” Will said, taking a sip. “So, you guys have, uh, been spending a lot of time together…”

“Yeah, I guess,” Mulder replied carefully, not quite able to decipher his son’s tone. “Does that bother you?”

“No,” Will replied. “It was just an observation.” He shrugged.

Mulder sighed. “Bud, it’s…”

“Complicated. So I’ve heard. Numerous times. Without asking.” He shot Mulder a very Scully-like look and added, “It was just an observation. I’ll keep them to myself from now on.”

Mulder hesitated for a moment before asking, “Would it bother you if we saw each other more?” Will’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I’m not saying… we haven’t talked about it. I’m just asking.”

“Dad, this is going to sound way worse than I mean it, but I really don’t care.”

“You don’t?”

“Not even a little.” Mulder must have made a face because Will elaborated. “Dad, I just got a very complicated piece for my recital. I’m a contender for the finale. I’m a little more focused on that than whether or not you and Mom get your crap together.”

Part of Mulder had hoped that Will would be thrilled at the possibility, should one arise. Will’s apathy on the subject, however, was the last reaction Mulder would’ve expected.

“Well, like I said, we haven’t actually talked about it. The only time I see Mom without you is while you’re in your lesson. It’s just coffee.”

“Right.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Will replied in a tone Mulder had only heard from Scully; it wasn’t a tone he’d heard in several years.

“Are you sure?”

“Jesus Christ, Dad,” Will groaned, obviously annoyed. “You’re married. If you want to go out for coffee, that’s your prerogative. Like I said, I care more about my piano piece right now than the status of your separation.”

There were several moments of silence before Mulder spoke up again. “So, it’s been two weeks. What do you think of the new school?”

“I think it’s school and this one sucks as hard as my other one did. Except, instead of being the rising star, I’m the weird kid.”

“The weird kid?”

“Yep. I’ve sunk to the bottom and, apparently, I will stay there unless I wow them during basketball season.” Will’s eyes narrowed and he added a sarcastic, “Go penguins!”

Mulder couldn’t help but to chuckle. “So, you’re going to play basketball then?”

“Well, it’s that or I stay on my rung of the social ladder.”

“I thought you didn’t care about that stuff,” Mulder replied as he pulled out into traffic.

“I don’t, actually; that’s the thing of it. Apparently, survival of the fittest doesn’t extend to wit and intellect – which is ironic given the nature of this school.” Will huffed and continued, “No, if I have any hope of surviving until graduation, I will have to wow them with athletics.” Will smirked. “Really, they’re lucky to have me. They just don’t know it, yet.”

Mulder couldn’t help but to chuckle. “Not to mention, you’ve only been in three fights since school started. That’s a plus.”

“Two,” Will corrected him, holding up two fingers. “The last one was more of a scuffle.”

“Will…”

“Hey, I haven’t been kicked out, yet. Be proud.” Mulder nearly choked on his drink, causing Will to laugh. “Don’t die. I don’t know the Heimlich and Mom’s not here!”

“Thank you, William,” Mulder deadpanned. Will chuckled.

“Speaking of Mom… are we doing movie night still or…? What’s the game plan?”

“Yeah, we’re still doing movie night. Mom’s just going to be a little late.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of dinner, actually,” Will retorted.

Mulder nodded. “ _We_ are going to get food. Then, we’ll head back to the house and wait for Mom. We’ll watch the movie when she gets there.” Will only nodded. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

Mulder’s eyes narrowed. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

Mulder watched his son for a moment. He didn’t quite believe the teenager, but he knew better than to push. Will had too much of Scully in him for that.

After a moment, he said, “So, what are you in the mood for? Indian?”

Will frowned. “Since when do you eat Indian food?”

“Okay, smart ass,” Mulder retorted causing his son to grin widely, “what are you thinking?”

Will smirked. “Indian sounds great, actually.”

Mulder frowned and Will laughed.

* * *

Scully entered the house to find it completely dark.

“Mulder?” she called, cautiously. Part of her wished she had a gun on her.

“In the kitchen!” he replied simultaneously with Will’s “Dad, did you forget to pay the utility bill?”

“No, Will, I didn’t,” Mulder retorted as Scully entered the kitchen. She winced as the beam from the flashlight caught her in the eye. “Sorry,” he replied quickly lowering the flashlight. “I’m looking for a candle.”

A loud crash came from upstairs, immediately followed by, “damn it!”

A few seconds later, Will appeared in the kitchen. “Are you sure you paid it?” Will asked, “It’s not storming and the power’s out.”

“Leave him alone, Will,” Scully said, amused, as she pulled an emergency candle out from under the sink. She ignored the look Mulder was giving her and lit it.

“Probably just another suicidal squirrel,” Will offered with a smirk. “Play a board game. Monopoly, anyone?”

“I am not playing Monopoly with the two of you,” Mulder announced firmly.

“Why not?” Their son retorted.

“Because she’s vicious and you cheat.”

“That happened one time and I was seven! Who makes a seven-year-old the banker?”

Scully fought a laugh. Will had a point.

“Scrabble?” Scully offered.

“No way,” Will replied. “You both have advanced degrees. I’m in high school. Hardly a fair game.”

“Do we have any other games?” Mulder asked, glancing to Scully. She wasn’t sure, either.

“We have Risk, Scrabble, Monopoly, Life, Yahtzee, Parcheesi, Sorry!, Clue, Trivial Pursuit, Axis and Allies…” Will paused for a brief moment and then added, “I think that’s all the multi-player games we have. Oh! Uno! Oooh… let’s play Uno!”

“I didn’t realize we had that many games,” Mulder mused.

“I didn’t either,” Scully agreed.

“So… are we playing Uno?”

Scully looked at Mulder who only shrugged. “Go get it,” she said. Will beamed and left the kitchen.

“He must have had a good day,” she said with a chuckle.

“He’s been in a good mood since he got out of his lesson,” Mulder replied.

“Found it!” Will said, holding up the box. “It was hiding.”

The three of them made their way to the kitchen table and Will began to shuffle the cards.


	16. To The Moon For All I Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The calm before the storm... or, something like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I'm on Spring Break? Lol! Trying to crank out as much of this as I possibly can this week because once break is over, I'm not sure how frequently I'll be able to post. All my semester projects and papers are rapidly approaching their due dates. Yay for university life.

Scully looked up when she heard Will enter the kitchen. He spent every waking moment on his piano, working on his recital piece since he’d gotten it. It wasn’t that Scully wasn’t incredibly proud of her son for his musical accomplishment; she just missed him and he spent most of his time in the same house as she did.

“What’s for dinner?” he asked, heading to the fridge. “It smells good.”

“Chicken,” she replied. “Don’t eat anything. This will be done soon.”

“I was just getting a Dew.” She watched as he opened his soda and took a drink.

“Was that the recital piece you were practicing earlier?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “I have to have it mastered by Thanksgiving. It’s the trickiest piece that I have ever attempted. If I don’t have it mastered, I don’t have a chance at playing the finale.”

“Thanksgiving? I thought the recital wasn’t until December?” Scully asked.

“It’s not. I’m a contender for the finale so I have a review. So, if I don’t have it mastered at the review, I won’t even have a shot playing the finale.”

“You’re a contender for the finale?” She asked, facing him. “William, I’m so proud of you! You’ve worked hard for that!” He only nodded in response. “What’s wrong?”

“You might want to save the pride until we find out whether or not I get the spot.”

Will’s apathy on what even Scully knew was a monumental achievement for him surprised her. Normally, he would have been thrilled – he _deserved_ to be thrilled. He’d come a long way in his playing in the few short months since he’d started. Scully wasn’t about to deny that he had always possessed natural talent and aptitude for the instrument. But, he was giving it his all.

“You’ve worked hard at your playing, Will,” she said, finally. “You should be proud of yourself. Even if you don’t get the spot.”

“I’m gonna be pissed at myself if I don’t get the spot,” he muttered.

“Why?”

“Because I was so close to it and it slipped by,” he retorted.

“William -.”

“Mom, please. Just don’t.”

Scully studied him for a moment before taking the chicken out of the oven. Will didn’t have to be asked or told to set the table.

* * *

“Can I ask you a question?” Will asked quietly before shoving a bite of salad into his mouth.

“Of course,” his mother replied.

He could feel her perturbation as he chewed his food. Finally, he swallowed.

“What’s going on with you and Dad?”

Will thought she was going to choke on her food. Clearly, she didn’t expect that question. In retrospect, he should have led in with something else.

“What do you mean?” Scully asked, finally.

“I just noticed that you guys have been spending a lot of time together,” he said. “I mean, it’s whatever. I’m just curious.”

“Will -.”

“I know, I know. I’m not asking if we’re moving back in. I just… I noticed that you guys are adding extra time throughout the week in the togetherness.”

“In the togetherness?” she repeated, sounding slightly amused by his terminology.

“Well, there’s therapy, but I’m not counting that. We have our movie night thing. You guys have been going out for coffee while I’m in my lessons. I know you guys had lunch together last week, too. I mean, you’re married so it’s not exactly unnatural, but I guess…” he paused and then let out a sigh. “I don’t know. It keeps coming up in our sessions and it seems like you guys keep adding things so, I’m just curious.”

His mother sighed. She looked to Will like she was choosing her words carefully. He sat silently and let her.

“Will, your father and I… It’s not that it…”

Will arched and eyebrow. His mother winced. He took a sip of his drink and said, “I’m not trying to make it awkward. I guess I’m just trying to brace myself.”

“Brace yourself for what?” she asked softly.

“I don’t know.”

“Are you okay with us having coffee together?” she asked slowly. “It doesn’t necessarily mean…”

Will waited for her to finish her thought, but she didn’t. “It doesn’t bother me,” he replied, “if that’s what you’re asking. But, I’m not, like, elated or anything, either. That sounds bad, but I stopped trying to figure out your relationship or lack thereof.”

"Lack thereof?"

Will shrugged. "Well, you're separated. I can't figure out if you want to get back together or not. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's up to you and Dad-."

"William, you're part of the decision," she interrupted. "You do know that you have a say in it, right?"

"I don't want a say in it, Mom. Don't put that on me. If you and Dad don't want it and I do, what does that look it? Or, the other way around: you guys want it and I don't? Please, don't let me a factor in that. I don't want that burden."

Will could feel her apprehension and confusion. It was as thought she hadn't expected that answer. Not that he could blame her. He hadn't exactly done a very good job about being vocal when it came to his thoughts and feelings on the subject. That was something Dr. Jake had encouraged him to do during their private sessions. He'd said that if his parents knew where he stood, it might make their decision easier -- for better or worse. 

The truth was that Will didn't exactly have an opinion. All he knew was that he didn't want to move back to Virginia only for them to go through the same things they went through before they left. He couldn't stand to watch his mother face that again and he certainly couldn't go through it again.

* * *

Will watched, slightly intrigued, by the interaction between his parents. Dr. Jake seemed pleased with their progress. He, on the other hand, wondered how much of it was real.

It was a shitty thing to think, he knew. But, lately, it seemed like everything was going a little too perfectly between the two of them. He knew his mother was anxious. Will could feel that. Every time she and his father were in the same room together.

He also knew the difference between his father’s forced grins and the ones that came naturally.

It made Will wonder just what the hell was going on. Were they both just anxious about dating again? Not that they were calling it that. Could it really just be that they were nervous?

Part of Will didn’t think so. But, who was he to ruin whatever was going on?

“What do you think, Will?” Dr. Jake asked.

“About what?”

His parents’ faces fell.

“About the game night,” Dr. Jake clarified.

“I have mixed feelings,” he confessed. “On the one hand, there’s nothing wrong with watching a movie and eating take out. It’s impossible to screw up by design. Yet, it’s always awkward – at least, it is for me.”

“Why?” Dr. Jake asked before Will had a chance to finish his thought.

“Because, I think it defeats the purpose of what you’re trying to accomplish. If no one has to acknowledge each other, what’s the point?” Before Dr. Jake could say anything else, Will continued. “Back to playing a game. That was kind of fun. I don’t remember the three of us playing a board game… God, since I was little. And, we have like fifteen of them that just sit there collecting dust. We were forced to interact. In that way, I thought it was probably the most productive thing we’ve done in years.”

“Besides therapy, of course,” his mother added.

“No… including therapy.”

“Including…?” his father began but didn’t finish his thought.

“Yes, including. Think about it. What _exactly_ do we do here?” No one answered. “Exactly. We answer questions relating to our perspectives on whatever happened during the week.” Will shrugged. “I still think it’s a waste of money.”

The adults were silent for a moment longer before his father spoke up. “Does this have something to do with our conversation at the coffee shop?”

“No,” he replied with a shrug. “I told you that I didn’t really care how much time the two of you spend together. I just want to make sure that it’s for the right reasons.”

“What do you mean?” his mother asked.

“Are you serious?” Will retorted. She shot him a look that clearly said she was. “Look, if you guys want to get coffee a couple times a week or go out for lunch or whatever, I don’t care. I don’t. That’s up to you guys. That said, just make sure that it’s because you _want_ to do it; not because you think you’re supposed to.”

“That’s insightful, Will,” Dr. Jake praised him.

“It’s common sense,” he deadpanned. “But, I know these two better than you do. They’re more inclined to get coffee and walk away making absolutely no progress.”

“Will,” his father said carefully, “we have a history outside of our marriage.”

“I’m well aware of that,” Will replied. “It took you like seven years or some bullshit like that to work up the nerve to go on a date that wasn’t part of an assignment.”

His mother shot a look to his father as though she were asking exactly what he’d told Will about their time in the FBI.

“Will, let me ask you something,” Dr. Jake interjected. “Does it bother you that they’re spending time together? You’ve mentioned before that you’re apprehensive about spending time together as a family. What about the two of them without you being there?”

Will shrugged. “No, it doesn’t bother me. I just think that, you know, Mom left for a reason. It didn’t work the first time for a reason. I just don’t want to experience that train wreck all over again. If it can be salvaged, cool; but, if not, I’d rather not pretend.”

“That’s fair. Fox, Dana… when he says that, what do you think?”

Will watched as his mother shifted uncomfortably.

“He’s not wrong,” she replied cautiously. “We had a lot of issues. We still do. But, Mulder’s right, we also have a long, complicated history. We were friends and partners long before we got together and had a family together. We can’t just ignore that, too.”

“No one’s saying that you should,” Dr. Jake replied softly.

“I agree with Scully,” Mulder said. “We’re here now trying to fix it.” His father glanced briefly to his mother as he continued, “It’s worth it to fix it.”

His mother’s discomfort wasn’t lost on Will. He picked up her apprehension when his father answered. They certainly were not on the same page. It caused Will to let out a sigh.

This was not going to end well. He just knew it.  

* * *

Scully sat on the couch, listening to William practice his recital piece. She could sense his frustration with it. He was putting too much pressure on himself, she thought. She was proud of him. Mulder was proud of him. But, there he was, beating himself up over it. 

It wasn't that she didn't understand his drive and determination. She did. That was certainly something that he'd inherited from his father. But, the difference was that Mulder was an adult and William was only fifteen. It wasn't healthy. 

She wanted to tell him to stop for the night and play a video game or read a book, but she knew he wouldn't do it. He'd only argue that he had to be perfect. Scully hated that for him. He was still a kid. He should be doing things like playing video games or hanging out with friends. Except, that Will's only friend was Matty, who was away at college.

"What is it?" she asked when he growled in frustration and slammed his hands on the keys, jolting her from her thoughts. She'd never seen him get angry like that with his instrument. He'd always handled it with care. 

"I can't get this part right. It's driving me freakin' insane," he growled.

"Maybe, you should call it a night." It wasn't so much a suggestion as it was telling him to work on his weekly piece or stop for the night. He didn't need to be getting this upset.

Will let out a sigh. "I just really want the finale spot," he replied sheepishly.

"I know you do," she replied softly. "I want that for you, too. But, if you put too much pressure on yourself, you're going to be too anxious to when you have your review. Why don't you work on your weekly piece or step away for awhile?"

William shot her a look of disbelief. 

"Actually, there's something that I wanted to talk to you about, anyway," she added, hoping to take his mind off of his recital.

Will rose from the piano bench and sat in the wing chair beside the couch. "What's up?"

"I've been thinking about something you said in therapy yesterday."

"I said a lot of things in therapy yesterday," he replied with a shrug. "You're going to have to be more specific."

"You said that you didn't want to experience the train wreck all over again."

"Oh... that..." he replied. Will hesitated before saying, "It's not that I don't necessarily want you and Dad to get back together. I try not to think about it, honestly. I just want to make sure that if you do, we're not going to go through all of that again." 

For the first time, Scully realized, Will was being completely transparent with her regarding the separation. She'd known it had hurt him when she'd taken him with her. She'd known it had hurt him that they left in the first place. Because of his outbursts during certain topics they discussed in therapy, she'd known that he hadn't been as oblivious to what was happening as she and Mulder had hoped. But, for the first time since they left, it felt like he was laying his cards on the table.

What broke her heart was that he wasn't just asking to have himself protected. He was worried about her, too. For as angry as he'd been with her, he was still the protective Mommy's boy he'd always been. 

"William, if we ever get back together, it'll be because I'm sure we won't."

"What happens if you don't think things can be fixed? Will you file for divorce and move on or just stay in this rut?" His voice was small as he asked. 

"I've tried not to think about that," she replied honestly. "I want to make sure that, if it comes to that, we tried everything. Okay? And, I  _never_ want you to think it's because of you or that you had any fault in it."

"I don't," he replied with a sigh. "It probably sounds bad, but right now I don't really care how it ends. I just want it  _to_ end. You know? I can't handle the in-between." He ran his fingers through his hair and added, "That's why I was asking you the other day about the amount of time you're spending with Dad lately. I kind of asked him the same thing. You both answered the same way. It feels like you're both playing it safe. I'm definitely not saying to jump into a decision because it affects all three of us, but you guys do this dance and as soon as I think I've gotten some kind of clue, the proverbial music changes. It just stresses me out."

"I know," Scully replied, running a hand on his shoulder. "You're a good kid, William. You're smart. You're talented." She paused before adding, "But, you worry too much. Okay? Let Dad and I figure this out. You focus on school and sports and your piano."

William only nodded in response but Scully knew that he was still going to worry.

"And," she added, causing him to look at her, " _try_ to stop fighting?"

Will laughed. "No promises."

* * *

Mulder made his way through the halls of his son’s school. Part of him wondered why they hadn’t called Scully. Or, perhaps they had; maybe, they couldn’t get in touch with her – if she was in surgery or something.

Either way, he was unsuccessfully navigating Will’s school trying to find the counselor’s office. Another fight. All he knew for certain was that Will had gotten into yet another fight. Part of him had hoped that their conversation at the coffee shop last week and their conversation during therapy had gotten through to him.

Knowing Will, it made him all that more ready to swing at the first person he saw.

Mulder let out a sigh when he finally found the office. Will was sitting outside of it with an ice pack to his face.

“I was wondering which one of you would show up,” Will said derisively.

“What happened?” Will only blinked in response. “I’m not joking, Will.”

“Well… it began as verbal sparring. Then, he shoved me.” He smirked and continued. “I knocked him on his ass. He tackled me and took a cheap shot. I socked him again. Teacher broke it up.”

“It not funny, William.”

“It’s actually hilarious, Dad,” he retorted. “You’re just pissed off because they drug you out of your house.”

“Mr. Mulder?” a voice said. Mulder looked up to see a younger man standing in one of the doorways.

“Yeah,” Mulder replied.

The man glanced to William and then back to Mulder. “Would you mind coming into my office for a moment?”

Mulder cast a last glance to his. “Do not go anywhere.”

“What if I have to pee?”

Mulder shot a glare at him. Will smirked.

With a sigh, Mulder followed the younger man to his office.

* * *

Scully saw the lights from Mulder’s vehicle as they pulled into the driveway. She fought every urge inside of her to go outside and confront William right there. He’d been suspended. For fighting. There was no way they could allow him to get away with that.

After several minutes, Scully peeked out the window. Neither of them seemed to notice her. They were leaning against the front of the vehicle, talking. It seemed serious from what she could tell.

With a sigh, Scully made her way to the couch. She’d barely opened her book when Will came barreling through the living room, upset.

“Will!” Mulder tried in a helpless tone, but William wasn’t having it. Scully heard his door slam. She glanced to her husband who had a look on his face that she had never seen in all the years she’d known him.

More concerned about her child, she left Mulder standing in the living room and made her way down the hall.


	17. Modern Heart Exhibit: Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Pain, it's been a long time. Remember when you were holding me tight? I would stay awake with you all night...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part one of four. 
> 
> Get those tissues ready.
> 
> Also, please note that I have been editing these chapters for two days so I’m likely to have missed some typos due to staring at the screen for so long. I will be reading through these again in a couple hours (because change in format helps) to see if I catch any and I’ll edit them if/when I do.

“ _Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!_ ” Will shrieked, punching his mattress _hard_ each time he said it. Scully stood in complete shock.

What the hell happened?

“William,” she said, not sure what else to say. He looked up at her, tears streaming down his cheeks. Scully didn’t hesitate, quickly moving to him as he sunk to the floor, his back against the edge of the bed, his knees drawn to his chest with his arms resting on his knees. Sitting next to him, she asked, “What happened?”

Will only shook his head and began to cry harder, burying his face into his arms. Scully wrapped her arms around him and tried to soothe him as he wept.

She lost track of how long they’d been that way. Not once in William’s life had she seen him like this. Not once had she felt pure anguish and disparity emanating from him. Her baby was broken and it tore her up inside. Scully pressed a kiss to his temple and held him tighter.

Finally, Will pulled away and wiped his eyes.

“William, talk to me,” Scully pleaded. He swallowed hard and she could see that he was fighting back more tears.

“It doesn’t matter,” he replied hoarsely.

“Of course, it matters,” she replied, running her hand over the back of his head. He sniffed back more tears and shook his head.

“Will -.”

“Mom,” he begged. “ _Please_. Let this one go.”

Scully was about to protest, to tell Will that he was her baby and she loved him.

“I know,” he said, as though reading her mind.

“Whenever you’re ready, please talk to me. Or Dad-.”

“I don’t want to talk to him!” Will snapped, taking her completely off-guard. There was a ferocity in his eyes that she didn’t think had existed. Disparity turned to anger in a flash and the speed of the change made her dizzy.

At least, she knew now that it was Mulder’s fault; although, she couldn’t imagine Mulder wittingly doing anything that would hurt their son. Especially, like this. The two of them had always been so close.

“Why not?” was all she could say to that.

Will shut his eyes. She could feel him forcing himself to calm down.

“I owe you an apology,” he said, instead of answering her question. “I’ve been angry at the wrong parent. I can finally see why you got the hell out of there.”

“William, your father -.”

“Don’t,” Will growled. “Do _not_ defend him. Not to me.”

Scully sat helpless and confused, wanting to fix it all for her little boy but with no clue what was broken nor how it had gotten that way.

Will leaned forward again, burying his face back into his arms. Scully rubbed his back soothingly with no idea what to say to him.

It took over an hour before Will had cried himself exhausted and crawled into bed. She swore she heard him start crying again as she shut the door, but he wanted to be alone. He didn’t need to tell her that; she could feel it.

When she got to the living room, Scully grabbed her phone and immediately called Mulder. She was going to find out what the hell happened.

* * *

 

Mulder stared at the ringing phone in his hands. He should answer it. If Scully was livid enough to be calling him, he wouldn’t put it past her to shoot him again. She was the most protective mother he’d ever encountered. Which, admittedly, he loved about her.

Still, he was hesitant to face her wrath.

He sipped his beer again when the phone stopped ringing and threw the phone on the table in front of him.

He’d done the right thing.

The phone rang again and Mulder exhaled a heavy sigh. This time, he answered it. Scully wasn’t angry like he’d assumed. She was concerned and frustrated, maybe. But, Will hadn’t told her what happened.

There was no way in hell that Mulder was going to tell her, either.

How could he do that to her? How could he possibly tell her that Will wanted to live with him? How could he take their son from her like that?

The fact was that he couldn’t. Mulder loved his wife too much to put her through that.

So, he told her that she needed to talk to their son about it.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want William to move in with him on a permanent basis. He certainly wanted that; he ached for it. But, he wanted his entire family home.

Not to mention the fact that Scully wasn’t supposed to be able to have him in the first place. They’d even _tried_ to get pregnant through IVF, through science. It hadn’t worked.

Will was their miracle and Mulder was not going to take that from her.

When they’d finally hung up, Mulder had managed to completely ruin his relationship with his son and get chewed out by his wife. He let out a sigh.

Fox Mulder had never looked forward to therapy like he did now. They could talk about what happened with a mediator present. Maybe, he could still salvage this.

But, did he really want to talk about it; did he really want Scully to know about Will’s request?

Either the beer was going to his head far quicker than it usually did or he was too upset to think clearly.  In either case, he deserved whatever came his way.

* * *

 

The only light in the room came from the street lamp outside, came in through the crack in the curtain, leaving odd shapes on the ceiling. Will stared shapes but didn’t really pay attention to them. His mind raced.

How could he have been _so fucking_ _stupid_?

All the signs were there, he’d just refused to see them. It was his own fault, really. His mother saw them, though, and she’d gotten the hell out of dodge.

It suddenly made sense. All the time his dad spent in his office, the fights he’d overheard… his mother’s tearful begging…

The fact was, Will mused angrily, his father had pushed them away. He didn’t want them.

Will wanted to ask him why. He wanted to ask what had changed. He wanted to ask why they weren’t good enough anymore.

But, he couldn’t. Everything they’d been doing lately – the counseling, movie nights… it had all been a lie.

It was game over and they’d lost.

Will was so lost in thought that he didn’t realize he’d begun to cry again.

* * *

 

Scully tossed her phone onto her bed and put her hands on her hips, forcing herself to breathe. She couldn’t recall ever being so angry or worried. She couldn’t recall William every being so hurt. She couldn’t recall Mulder ever sounding so guilty.

As always, she was the one left in the dark. Except, this time, it wasn’t about Mulder ditching her for some damn “truth.” This was about their son. Damn it, she needed answers.

This was definitely coming up in therapy.

Scully shut her eyes tightly before she sat on her bed. Her heart broke all over again as she listened to Will crying himself to sleep. Everything in her screamed at her to crawl in bed beside him, to hold him until he fell asleep; to protect him.

But, she knew better. Will needed to be alone. She’d felt it from him long before she’d left his room.

So, she forced herself to stay put.

“Damn it, Mulder,” she spat to the empty room.

* * *

 

Will woke slowly, the light peeking through the blinds. He felt like he could easily sleep another few hours. God, he was exhausted. He was exhausted and he had a headache.

Nevertheless, he rolled out of bed and headed to take a shower.

The hot water did next to nothing to ease the tension out of Will’s muscles as he replayed his conversation with his father.

His father.

Will scoffed at the term. Sure, Fox Mulder was his father. If one used the term loosely. Truth was, he realized last night, that Mulder hadn’t been his father in a long time, save biology.

He’d seen it in the older man’s eyes. Fox Mulder had checked out on them a long time ago. That was the reality. Will had just been too blind to see it.

God, he was an asshole. He’d been taking it all out on his mother, blaming _her_ , while securing his father on a pedestal. His mom wasn’t the bad guy in the scenario. She’d been the one protecting him; protecting _them_.

Will was so lost in thought that he hadn’t realized the water had run cold nor that he’d begun crying again; not until he was face-to-face with his reflection. He didn’t like the person staring back.

He had to make a change.

He refused to be Will Mulder: the victim. If his father didn’t want him, fine. He wasn’t going sit around hoping and waiting that he’d change his mind again.

Will heaved a sigh. One day at a time.

He stared into his closet. A series of ironic t-shirts and designer jeans hung before him. He grabbed his Juilliard shirt and threw it on over a pair dark jeans. He laced up his grey Converse and stared at himself in the mirror.

Coffee. Breakfast. Piano. Possibly a break for lunch. More piano.

That was going to be his day, he decided to his reflection.

Maybe, his father couldn’t accept his freak of a son, but he was going to try damn hard to make his mother proud.

* * *

 

Scully entered the house cautiously. There was no telling what aspect of Will’s emotional discord was going to be on display. She didn’t have any indication and, thus, had no way to brace herself.

To her surprise, he was sitting at the piano completely engaged with the instrument. And, he was dressed. She wasn’t sure which she found more shocking: the fact that he’d gotten out of bed and gotten dressed or that she didn’t walk into a web of rage.

“Hey,” she greeted mindful of her son’s display of fragility the previous night.

“Hey,” he replied. “Dinner should be ready in about fifteen minutes. Hope you’re hungry.” He glanced to her briefly, flashing a smile she didn’t expect to see from him so soon. “I made salmon.”

“Salmon?”

“You’re also going to see a couple of charges when you get the bill for the credit card you left on the counter. I lacked some ingredients and there was also the Uber fee.”

Scully studied her son for a moment. There was something different about him, but she couldn’t place her finger on what. She hated that feeling.

“I’m fine, Mom,” Will said, as though reading her mind. He stopped playing and faced her with a solemn expression. “I promise.”

“Are you sure?” she pressed. “Last night…”

He let out a sigh. “Last night was a wake up call for me. It’s not going to do either one us any good to dwell.”

“You talked to your dad?”

“Oh, hell no. I’m done with him. I was talking about _us_ ,” he replied, waving a hand between the two of them. “I’m not going to waste time trying to sort it out with someone who doesn’t care. So, no.”

“Will,” Scully said carefully, “what did you fight about?”

He shook his head and faced the keys again. “It doesn’t matter,” he replied quietly.

Scully watched him, trying to decide what to say or do to ease whatever pain had caused him to shut down.

* * *

 

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Will replied.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened,” Dr. Jake replied softly. “You guys were making incredible progress in your family session. What changed?”

“I don’t think anything changed,” he confessed with a sigh. “I just realized something that Mom already knew. I finally saw what she saw a long time ago.” Tears burned in his eyes but he refused to let them fall. His father didn’t deserve those tears, he told himself. “She was to protect me and I was a dick. I hate myself for that.”

“You’re upset because you were angry with your mom?” Dr. Jake sounded surprised. Will wasn’t sure if it was his confession of emotion that surprised his therapist or something else. Dr. Jake was the hardest person for Will to read.

“Yeah. More or less.”

“Will, it’s okay to be angry. You _reacted_ to something you didn’t understand. There’s nothing wrong with that. You’re fifteen. It’s okay to react like you’re fifteen.”

“I just… I don’t… I don’t do very well with emotions. I can pick up on them with other people, but not with myself.”

“I know that. It was one of the first things I learned about you. That’s okay. You’re human.”

Will was silent for a couple of minutes. Dr. Jake, to his surprise, didn’t press. It was like he could see the tornado raging inside of Will and was giving him the decency of riding it out alone.

Finally, Will sighed and said, “I idolized my father. I put him on a fucking pedestal. I don’t believe in all the crap he believes in, but I wanted to be like him, y’know? I wanted him to be proud of me – like, honestly proud of me. Over the last few days, I realized that I never could be like him because I’m _not_ like him. I’m better than that. I’m _stronger_ than that. I care more than that.” He paused and exhaled a heavy breath as he gathered his thoughts. “I might not understand emotions very well if a piano isn’t in front of me, but I know the differences in types of people. I don’t want to be the type of person that he is.”

“What type of person is that?” Dr. Jake asked patiently.

“A narcissist. He cares about himself; everyone else be damned. It’s ironic, really. For all his talk about his family, he chose his fantasies. Mom saw that. I didn’t. That was my mistake.”

“Will, I have a homework assignment for you to do this week -.”

“I’m not going to talk to or see him, so don’t even bother suggesting that,” Will interjected firmly.

“I want you to write a letter. Every time you experience a strong emotion related to what happened with you and Fox, I want you call it out; tell it what you think.”

“Come again?” Will asked, a skeptical eyebrow arched.

Dr. Jake chuckled and said, “You feel more deeply than anyone I’ve ever worked with – possibly, ever met You express it in your music. That much is clear from the recordings you’ve played for me. Instead of putting music to those emotions, I want you to put words to them.” Will must have made a face because Dr. Jake continued, “The purpose of the exercise is to teach you how to identify the emotions and articulate them. Okay? I’m trying to teach you how to talk about it _before_ you blow up because the one thing I’ve learned about you is that you bottle everything. We’re trying to find a productive outlet.”

“Music is my outlet,” Will deadpanned.

“There’s nothing wrong with that. But, according to our family sessions, so is fighting. You bottle everything and then you explode. We’re gonna work on that. Okay?”

“Okay,” Will sighed.

“Alright. I’ll see you next week.”

Will rose from the couch and headed to the lobby to meet his mother. To his surprise, he found his father. Will stiffened, his blood boiling inside of him, and clenched his fists at his side.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded.

“Mom asked me to pick you up. She got called into the hospital for an emergency sur-.”

“I’ll call an Uber.” He started to walk toward the door but his father stepped in front of him. “Move.”

“Will-.”

“Move or I’ll hit you so hard that Google won’t even able to find you.”

“William, please, just talk -.”

Will shoved his father out of the and headed into the street, silently willing his father not to follow him. He didn’t want his father to see him; he wanted to blend in with the handful of people walking on the sidewalk.

When he got to the coffee shop across the street, he was surprised to find his father looking every which way.

Somehow, his father hadn’t seen him. And, Will suddenly had a terrible headache.


	18. Modern Heart Exhibit: Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Shame, I was safe in your arms. You were there when it all fell apart. I would get so lost in your beautiful lies...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of four.
> 
> Keep those tissues handy...
> 
> I've been editing these chapters for two days before posting. I'll read through it again for missed typos or whatever, but I gotta break from the screen for a couple hours, lol.

Mulder’s heart sank when he noticed that Scully was alone. It wasn’t that he wasn’t thrilled that she still came over for the movie night, but Will wasn’t with her and he was desperate to see his son, to talk to him; to make him understand.

“He’s not coming,” Mulder sighed, defeated.

Scully gave him a sympathetic look. “He’s angry,” she said softly, running a hand comfortingly along his forearm for too brief a moment. “Give him time.”

Mulder nodded pathetically. “I wasn’t sure if you’d still come over,” he confessed.

“Mulder, whatever this is, it’s between you and William. I want to help, but he won’t talk to me about it.”

Neither the bitterness nor the defeat in Scully’s voice was lost on him. Will still hadn’t told her, Mulder mused silently. There was no way he would, either. He’d already ruined one relationship; he wasn’t about to ruin this one, too.

“Come on in,” he replied with a sigh, leading his wife into the house. “I haven’t fired up the grill, yet. You’re a little bit earlier than I was expecting.”

“It’s okay,” she replied, verbally shrugging it off.

There was a moment of awkward silence before Mulder spoke up again. “Aside from being mad, how is he?”

“He’s okay,” Scully replied softly. “He’s been focusing on his piano more than ever since he got suspended.” Mulder nodded absently as she continued. “I couldn’t really ground him from that.”

“But, he’s okay?”

Mulder met her gaze. There was a soft, sympathetic look in her eyes. “He’s fine, Mulder,” she replied in a tone that matched her eyes. It was meant to be comforting and, perhaps, under any other circumstance, would’ve been; however, in that moment, in threatened to shatter him.

When dinner was served, they ate in relative silence; small talk being the only conversation they exchanged.

The movie Mulder had picked was one of Will’s favorites. He’d chosen it for that reason, hoping that the boy would see it as an olive branch. But, of course, Will hadn’t joined them. Mulder thought he was foolish to have hoped for it.

Will’s best defense when he was hurt, upset, or angry was to shrink back into his music and forsake all else. Not that Mulder could blame him. He knew he’d hurt his son. Still, he’d hoped that Scully would’ve, at the very least, forced him into showing up.

But, she didn’t and Mulder couldn’t fault her for that. Hell, he probably would’ve done the same thing if the situations were reversed. He wasn’t sure which was worse: that Scully had left and taken William with her all those months ago or that he’d most likely ruined his relationship with his only child.

“Mulder…” Scully’s voice said, ripping him from his reverie. He glanced to the TV. Somehow, half of the movie had played through without him realizing it. Mulder met his wife’s gaze. “What happened?”

“Scully…”

“This is about our _son_ ,” she snapped.

“I know that!” Mulder snapped back, immediately regretting it. “I’m sorry,” he sighed. “Just… _please_ let him tell you.”

The look she threw him shattered him. Years ago, it was the look he was terrified of receiving. It was the one that said he’d fucked up too badly, crossed too far beyond the line. Back then, she’d have avoided him for a few days, leaving him restless and miserable and trying to figure out how to win her back over to him. Back then, he’d have shown up at her apartment, begging for forgiveness and he would’ve done whatever it took to receive it. He didn’t even get that look when she left him.

This time, she’d already left him. This time, he was well aware that the shaky ground on which he stood could crumble underneath him at any moment. He didn’t want to risk that. This time, he’d hurt his son to spare his wife. He hadn’t meant to, but it had played out that way.

It was something that he would always have to live with, whether Will came around to him again or not. As of that moment, he had to face the possibility that his son was done with him. All because he’d tried to do the right thing.

It was an impossible situation and Mulder knew that. He was faced with shattering his wife’s heart and completely ruining his marriage and completely losing his family. Or, he could shatter his son’s heart and hope to Scully’s god that William was still enough of a mommy’s boy to listen to her when she was being the voice of reason. Mulder didn’t mean to shatter William. In fact, he’d tried to avoid; pleaded with his son to see reason. But, William was fifteen years old. He didn’t see the reason.

No matter which way Mulder had chosen, their family lost.

“Okay,” she said bitterly and rose from the couch.

“Scully…”

“I’m used to this from you, Mulder,” she sneered as she snatched her purse from beside the couch. “But, your _son_ shouldn’t have to be.”

She stormed toward the door, tossing an “I’ll see you Wednesday,” over her shoulder as she slammed the door behind her.

Mulder sunk into the couch. Part of him wanted to run after her, to beg her to understand. But, what could he possibly say to make it better?

The simple answer was: nothing.

There was nothing he could say until Will was ready to tell her. He couldn’t even offer anything to soften the blow.

* * *

 

Mulder sat on the plushy couch in Dr. Jake’s office, waiting for the younger man to return and begin their session.

The sound of the door shutting got Mulder’s attention.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “I thought Dana said you guys weren’t coming in today.”

“They’re not. She had an emergency surgery,” Mulder replied awkwardly.

“But, you’re still here.” Dr. Jake sounded somewhat impressed by the development. It was as though he’d doubted Mulder’s commitment to the process. But, what young Dr. Jake didn’t understand was that the only thing that mattered to Fox Mulder was his family and he was willing to do whatever it took – no matter how uncomfortable – to get them back. Even if it meant sitting in their family therapy session alone.

“Yeah…”

There was a moment of awkward silence before Dr. Jake asked, “How are things?” It wasn’t the usual tone they heard from him every week. This was a tone that told Mulder that Jake knew something was wrong.

He let out a sigh. “I ruined my relationship with my son and possibly pushed my wife to file for divorce.”

Dr. Jake’s eyebrows threatened to fly off his forehead. “What happened?”

Mulder swallowed before answering, “Will asked to live with me.”

A sympathetic look took up residence on the younger man’s face. “You told him no.”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“It’s a long story.”

“We have plenty of time.”

Mulder sighed before nodding, deciding it best to start from the very beginning. “When we were in the FBI, long before we got together, Scully was abducted. She was missing for months. After she got back, we found out that she’d been subjected to… tests. She was left unable to conceive. It’s a long story, but ultimately, we had hope for a little bit.” Mulder paused, trying to decide how best to remain vague but give enough information that Dr. Jake would know he was serious. He let out a breath before continuing, “A couple of years later, she got pregnant with Will.”

Dr. Jake stared at him with a childish look of intrigue – like a kid who was told his parents were taking him to Disney Land for the first time. Mulder assumed it was because they limited how much they talked about their time in the FBI and completely leaving out the name of the X-Files. Not by Mulder’s choice, necessarily, but the existence of the X-Files wasn’t conducive to their marital problems at the time.

To his surprise, the young psychiatrist didn’t say anything. Rather, he waited patiently for Mulder to continue.

“When Scully found out she was pregnant, I was…” he paused, trying to decide how best to phrase what had happened without sounding certifiable. “I was away on a case. When I came back, she was several months pregnant.”

“Wait,” Dr. Jake interrupted, clearly confused. Not that Mulder could blame him. “You didn’t know?”

“While I was on the case, _I_ was abducted. If I had even suspected, I never would’ve gone. But, we didn’t know – we didn’t think it _could_ happen. Anyway, when I woke up in the hospital, I found out the hard way. I was angry and confused… hurt.”

“Hurt?”

“I thought she gave IVF another try. Without me. She had no reason to think I was coming home. They, uh, wrote me off as dead. Long story short, I came home. We figured things out. Will was born. We got married. And, here we are.”

Dr. Jake studied him carefully before asking, “Is Will…?”

“Yes, he’s mine. Biologically. After what happened to Scully, she had tests run to make sure everything was okay.”

“So, when Will asked to live with you…” the younger man prompted.

“I couldn’t do that to her.” Mulder let out a heavy breath. “You have no idea how badly she wanted to be a mother back then. She was devastated when she found out she couldn’t have kids. I couldn’t take him from her.”

“Like she did to you?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Mulder replied carefully.

“Fox, when Will asked to come live with you, what happened? Aside from you telling him no.”

“I told him that his mother needed him with her.”

“How did he respond to that?”

“He begged me. He told me how much he hates his new school and how miserable he is.” Mulder looked to the floor. “He begged,” he said quietly.

“And, you still said no.”

“I told you that I couldn’t do that to Scully.”

“What did Dana say?” Mulder sighed in response. “You didn’t tell her?” There was a genuine surprise in Dr. Jake’s voice. Mulder only shook his head. “Why not?”

“I was afraid it would break her,” he confessed. He swallowed hard before adding, “If she finds out, it’ll be because Will told her.”

Mulder threw Dr. Jake a look that dared him to bring it up during a normal session. The younger man seemed to pick up on the silent threat because he exhaled loudly and nodded.

“Fox, let me ask you this, if the situation had been different, if the things that happened to Dana hadn’t happened and Will was still asking you to live with you, what would you have said?”

Mulder thought for a moment. “I don’t know. I could never take her child from her.”

“Did you want to say yes?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I did.”

“But, you didn’t.”

Mulder clenched his jaw. What the hell was Dr. Jake looking for from him?

“We’ve established that,” Mulder growled.

Dr. Jake threw his hands up defensively. “I’m asking so much for a reason. A lot of times we do or say things to convince ourselves that it’s the right thing to do. If we can convince ourselves of that, we can live with our decisions. The fact that you’re here, alone, tells me that you’re looking for something else. I’m trying to make sure that this was what you wanted.”

“Of course, it’s not what I wanted!” Mulder snapped. “I want my family back! I want my son to understand that I wasn’t doing it to hurt him.”

“Why do you think he doesn’t think that?”

“He won’t talk to me. We were in a _really_ good place before this. Our relationship was better than it had been in years.”

“You want that back.”

“Yes.”

Dr. Jake shot him a sympathetic look. “There’s nothing wrong with that. But, you also have to know that Will is probably going to need some time. In the meantime, we can work through this during our sessions. That said, if you want my honest opinion, you should tell Dana. It’s not fair to her to be the only one who doesn’t know, especially if Will is as miserable as he says he is.”

“He’s talked to you about it, too?”

“I can’t talk about my private sessions with Will. Doctor-patient confidentiality.” Dr. Jake let out a sigh. “Will is a complicated kid. He’s too smart for his own good. He’s incredibly observant and intuitive. But, he’s still a kid. He may appear to be an adult on the outside in most situations – he may even try to be an adult, but he’s a kid. It’s not wrong for him to react like a kid.”

“You’re saying there’s a chance he’ll get over it?” Mulder scoffed. “You clearly don’t know him. That boy has an uncanny ability to hold a grudge.”

Dr. Jake snorted in amusement. “That’s not exactly what I was getting at, but I don’t think you’ve entirely ruined your relationship with him. I think you’re wrong about that. I’m not saying that it won’t take time – Will is the kind of person who has to come around on his own terms. I’m saying you need to be patient with him and that you shouldn’t stop trying.”

Mulder sunk back into the couch. It wasn’t like he planned to stop trying to get Will to understand. The trick was getting Will to answer the phone or to be in the same room long enough to get him to listen in the first place.


	19. Modern Heart Exhibit: Hate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Hate, I know you're not far. You would wait at the door of my heart. I was amazed at the passion in your cries...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part three of four.

“Where’s Will today?” Dr. Hadley asked, pleasantly, but he seemed to be somewhat concerned.

“William won’t be joining us for a few sessions,” Scully replied, refusing to meet her husband’s gaze.

“He doesn’t want to see _me_ ,” Mulder replied with a bitter sigh. Not that he was wrong in his assessment, Scully added to herself.

“He’s angry,” she said softly, sympathetically. Not long ago, she’s been the one on the receiving end of their son’s anger and his uncanny ability to hold a grudge. She wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

“It’s _family_ counseling,” Mulder retorted.

Scully let out a sigh. “Mulder, I’m not going to force him to be here right now. It’s not good for him.”

“I want to see him, Scully.”

“ _He_ doesn’t want to see _you_.” She exhaled a heavy breath “I’ve tried, Mulder. I have tried to get him to answer his phone when you call. I have tried to get him to go to your house. I have _tried_ to get him to talk to you. He refuses. What am I supposed to do?” She didn’t quite catch whatever remark he muttered under his breath, but something about it caused something in her brain to snap. “You know what, Mulder, this is on _you_. I have tried to get him to talk to me about it, but he’s every bit as stubborn as you are. I can’t help if neither one of you will tell me what the hell happened! I’m not going to force him into anything right now. You know as well as I do how that would end.”

“Yeah, how’s that, Scully?” Mulder demanded.

“He’d lash out! He would do something stupid and reckless and probably get himself hurt! I’m not going to set my son up for that!”

“Okay! Okay!” Dr. Hadley said, getting their attention as he made a time out gesture with his hands. “Both of you just take a deep breath, okay?”

Scully and Mulder stared at each other heatedly for a few more seconds before Dr. Hadley broke the silence.

“Let’s talk about what’s going on with Will. Dana, Will has made his opinion on family counseling very clear since our first session together. You’ve always brought him anyway. Why is this time different?”

“Because -,” Mulder began bitterly only to be silenced by their therapist.

“You’ll get your chance in a minute, Fox.” There was an authority to the young man’s tone that took both, Scully and Mulder, by surprise. “This is clearly a much larger issue than Will opting to skip out today. It affects not only the progress we make in these sessions, but how the three of you carry on outside of this office.” He faced Scully again. “Dana, why is this different?”

“William got suspended last week for fighting. Mulder picked him up because I was in surgery. When he brought him home that evening, they got into some kind of fight. Will was hurt and upset. I’m not forcing him to come to therapy until he’s ready to see his father because I listened to him cry himself to sleep three nights in a row. I watched all but shut down. I haven’t been able to do a damn thing about it.”

Dr. Hadley nodded and faced Mulder. “What do you feel about that, Fox?”

“I want to see my son,” he said, firm in his resolve. “I want to fix this.”

Scully fought the urge to roll her eyes at the irony of the situation. It wasn’t long ago that she was in Mulder’s desperate position and Mulder was in Will’s defiant one.

“Mulder, I have _never_ kept him from you and I’m not going to start keeping him from you. But, I’m also not going to force him into it.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “He _begged_ me not to make him come here today. Begged. I couldn’t do that to him.”

“What do I do, Scully?” her husband pleaded. “How do I fix this?”

The sincerity and desperation in her husband’s eyes broke her heart. She could see his helplessness. She’d felt it before, too.

“I don’t know,” she confessed. “I don’t know what will get through to him, Mulder. I’m walking on eggshells around him myself.”

“Fox,” Dr. Hadley said, “if you saw Will, if Dana could convince him to see you, what would you say?”

Mulder mulled it over for a moment before responding. “I’d apologize. I’d tell him that I love him more than life itself.”

“Why do you think he doesn’t know that?”

Scully watched Mulder tense at the question. She knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t going to answer it. She’d known the man long enough to recognize that defensive posture.

“He doesn’t want to see me and he won’t talk to me,” Mulder deadpanned.

“Dana already said that he’s angry. He’s hurt. That’s not what I asked.”

Mulder sighed. “I don’t know. I just… do. I saw it in his eyes.” Her husband smiled sadly. “His eyes are every bit as telling as his mother’s.”

* * *

 

Maggie Scully listened as William played something soft on the piano. Not even Matthew seemed to be able to get through to him today. She wasn’t oblivious to the change in her youngest grandson’s behavior. Dana had mentioned that he and his father had gotten into a fight and that neither one of them had talked since. Although, she’d noted that Fox had been relentless in his pursuit of reconciliation, but that William wasn’t having it.

“Dude, you’re being depressing!” Matt whined to his cousin. It was a mock-whine, Maggie detected from the grin Matt flashed her. “Come on. Let’s go _do_ something.”

“I _am_ doing something,” Will retorted.

“Dude, you practice like eighteen hours of the day. I’m only in town for two more days before I have to get back to school. Let’s, I don’t know, see a movie, go to a concert – a real one, not a classical one; let’s crash a party.”

Will carefully exhaled a breath. Maggie detected that he was attempting not to lash out. That much was progress.

“Fine,” Will relented to Maggie’s surprise. She cast a look at her daughter. Dana seemed equally as shocked. “I gotta get my jacket,” he sighed and headed up the stairs.

“Yes!” Matt exclaimed victoriously. He faced the Scully women with a self-satisfied smirk and said, “We’ll be back!”

“Let me get you some -,” Dana started, but Matt threw up a hand and waved off whatever she was about to say.

“I got it.”

“Let’s go,” Will said with a sigh from behind them.

The boys left the house, Will trailing his enthusiastic cousin.

* * *

 

“So…” Matt said, as they pulled into a parking space.

“So?”

“We gonna talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“Oh, come on, Will,” Matt retorted. “You know what.”

“No, Matt, I don’t,” Will bit back. “Everyone wants to fuckin’ talk but no one says what they want to talk _about_.”

“Fair enough. What happened with your dad?”

“My mom put you up to that question?”

“No. But, you looked like you were going to murder someone when Grandma brought him up. Then, you spent four hours on the piano without saying a single word the entire time. Didn’t take a genius to figure out you’re pissed at him.”

“You know what, I _am_ pissed at him. More to the point, I’m done with him. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t to talk _about_ him. He made the decision for me.”

“Okay, coffee definitely isn’t gonna work here.” Matt put the vehicle in reverse.

“Where are we going?” Will sighed.

“I’m going to see if my fake ID is as good in D.C. as it is in Evanston.”

“You’re gonna get me wasted?”

“Hopefully, you’re going to relax a little bit. Then, we’ll get some food and head back to Grandma’s before they start to worry.”

* * *

 

Matt pulled into the driveway, his heart pounding. They were going to kill him. It took a moment for him to realize that he was actually shaking.

God, his aunt was going to kill him.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed as he envisioned every scenario in which he told them what had happened. The truth was, it made no sense whatsoever and, no matter which scenario he played in his mind, they all ended in his death.

Fucking Will.

Finally, he brought himself to enter his grandmother’s house.

She smiled up at him and Matt felt sick.

“Did you guys have a good time?” his aunt asked.

“Right up until the end,” he replied. It was true. They were having a great time. Until Will fucking vanished on him.

“Where’s Will?” she asked. Matt suddenly felt like he was going to vomit. “Matt?”

He exhaled a shaky breath. “I don’t know.”


	20. Modern Heart Exhibit: Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Anger, you made me so high. You were faithful to show up on time. Such a flame that was burning in your eyes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, part four.
> 
> Don't @ me. :P
> 
> Again, I've been editing for two these for two days and I probably missed some things. I'll break from the screen and come back in a little bit to fix anything I might have missed.

Scully’s heart pounded in her chest. Her nephew stood before her, pale and looking ready to vomit, telling her that her son had disappeared.

Every scenario of such a disappearance played through her mind in an instant. Someone had kidnapped him again. Someone from their past was holding him hostage. Will ran away. Will was dead somewhere. 

“Matthew,” she said slowly, terrified, “what happened?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed, looking like he was about to burst into tears. “We were at this coffee shop in the city and he saw Uncle Fox – or, _thought_ he saw Uncle Fox, I’m not quite sure because _I_ didn’t see him. When I turned around, he was just… gone. I looked for him for over an hour before coming back here. I called him and he won’t answer his phone. I’ve texted him and he won’t respond. I don’t know where he is and I don’t know what happened. He just… vanished.”

* * *

 

Will stared out across the football field from his spot on the aluminum bleachers. There wasn’t anything special about the field any more than there was about the team that played on it. Actually, he thought, the field was probably better than his new school’s shitty football team. Part of him wondered if that was just the way of things: excellence in academics meant struggle in athletics.

But, then, where did that leave him? He could easily ace every class if he applied himself. He was also great at athletics. Perhaps, he was just a dichotomy; the tragic exception to the rule.

If he were going to a regular college, this was exactly the kind of high school he should be attending. It fully prepared its graduates for university life, even granting those in the advanced program an associate’s degree upon graduation. Except he wasn’t going to a regular university. Will Mulder, if he had his way, was Juilliard bound.

He took a drink of the whiskey he’d purchased with the fake ID Matt had brought him. The intent, Matt had informed him, was that they were going to get into a piano bar while he was in town. But, things hadn’t played out that way.

It didn’t stop him from swinging into a nearby liquor store and purchasing the drink he’d needed. Will knew that he probably shouldn’t be drinking alone, let alone at his high school. But, he needed to get somewhere quiet; somewhere no one would think to look for him.

The school he’d spent more time ditching than sitting in had obviously been the perfect hiding spot.

The truth was that Will had panicked.

He thought he’d seen his father at the coffee shop and he needed to disappear. He hadn’t been able to breathe, let alone make a sound decision. Will supposed to could’ve told Matt to get them both out of there – Matt was probably freaking out. But, he didn’t. He just walked out, willing himself invisible.

Will knew he couldn’t actually _make_ himself invisible, but no one had noticed him leave and he preferred it that way.

With a sigh, he took the small notepad out of his back pocket.

Dr. Jake had told him a couple of weeks ago to write letters to what he was feeling as the strongest emotions surfaced, the emotions he recognized. He hadn’t written much since varying levels of anger were what he felt.

_Dear Anger…_

He stared at his handwriting. Dear Anger… what?

* * *

 

Scully answered the door. Her eyes filled with tears as soon as she saw him standing on her mother’s porch.

Without a word, Mulder pulled her to his chest and held her there. That, he assumed, was what caused her to break. She wept into his chest.

“We’ll find him, Scully,” he said quietly. “I’ll bring him home; I promise.”

She nodded and pulled away, leaving a wide enough gap for him to enter the house.

“Fox,” her mother greeted, pulling him into a hug. When they pulled apart, she pecked his cheek. It was a loaded gesture, he knew, but it was nice to have at least one member of the Scully clan in his corner.

“Hey, Matty,” he greeted as Matthew offered his hand. Mulder accepted it.

“I’m sorry,” the younger man said in a shaky voice, tears in his eyes.

Mulder pulled him into a hug. “It’s not your fault, Matt. Will’s… unpredictable right now. You couldn’t have known.” When they parted, he looked the young Scully in the eyes. “What happened?”

Matt hesitated. “It’s okay, Matty,” Scully said. Matt let out a breath.

“He thought he saw you. We were at this coffee shop and he thought he saw you and just took off. I turned around and he was gone.”

Mulder sighed. “I haven’t left the house until now. He didn’t see me.”

“That’s what I figured,” Matt sighed. “I mean, that he didn’t see you because _I_ didn’t see you.”

“We’ll find him,” Mulder said, resolute. “What coffee shop were you at? We can start there.”

He listened as Matt recounted all the places he’d checked when he realized that Will was no longer in the coffee shop, trying to decide where Will might go next. If he wasn’t at Scully’s and he sure as hell hadn’t gone to Mulder’s, that left few possibilities.

The museums were closed now. Bookstores. Matt had checked a couple of the nearby parks and Will hadn’t been there.

 _Think_ , Mulder told himself.

After a few minutes of coming up with nothing, he said, “Scully, why don’t you head back to your house in case he shows up there? Your mom can hang out here in case he comes back here. We all know he’s not going to go to my house. I’ll drive around and see if I see him. Matt, you come with me for the extra set of eyes.”

“Okay,” Matt said, getting up to retrieve his jacket.

“Mulder, what if… what if he _does_ go to your house? He’s _so_ angry. It’s possible that he might show up.”

“He won’t,” Mulder said. “He won’t even go to therapy because he’ll see me. He’s not going to show up at my house.”

“Uh… guys?” Matt said. Everyone looked at him. He handed Scully’s phone to her. “He just texted you.”

She breathed a sigh of relief and then said, “He’s okay.”

“Where is he?” Maggie asked.

“He didn’t say,” she replied, handing the phone to Mulder. He read the text.

_Don’t panic. I’m fine. I just need to clear my head. I’ll meet you at home later._

Leave it to William to be succinct. Mulder handed the phone back and Scully replied the text. Mulder assumed she was asking where he was at.

After a few minutes, her phone chimed again. She let out an irritated sigh.

“What is it?” Mulder asked softly.

“I asked where he was. He said not to worry about it and that he’d meet me home.”

Mulder let out a sigh. Of course, he did.

“I can try the GPS on his phone,” Matt offered. “I put some music on his phone earlier and he gave me his password since it kept asking for it. If he has the Find My iPhone set on his phone, I can find him from the computer. But, I can’t promise anything.” Matt looked away sheepishly. “I should have thought of that earlier.”

“Go ahead and try it, Matt,” Scully said softly.

After a couple of minutes, Matt shook his head. “Sorry. He doesn’t have it turned on. Either that or he already unauthorized my computer.”

Mulder faced his wife and softly said, “Why don’t you go home and wait for him? He said he’d come home. Will’s always been good at keeping his promises.”

Scully let out a sigh and nodded. “I’ll call you when he gets back.”

Mulder fought the urge to tell her that he’d wait at her house with her. He knew it would be a bad idea. If Will thought he saw him in a coffee shop and ran off, there was no telling what he’d do if he came home to find him there.

“Okay. If I hear from him, I’ll let you know, too.”

Mulder walked Scully to her car and then headed back to his house, hoping his son would contact him – even if it was only to tell him to go to hell.

* * *

 

Mulder jolted awake when someone knocked on his door. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He checked his phone quickly to see if there was any word from Scully or Will. There was neither.

With a sigh, he headed to the door. There was no reason for anyone to be knocking on it, let alone this late at night. He peeked out the small window. An officer stood on his porch.

Mulder’s heart plummeted as every fear he held regarding his wife and son played through his mind. He took a breath, bracing himself as he opened the door.

“Officer?”

“Sorry to bother you,” the young officer said. “Are you Fox Mulder?”

“Yes?”

“Does he belong to you?” the officer asked, pointing just out of Mulder’s line of sight.

Mulder leaned over to see William leaning against the railing of the porch. His son waved a sarcastic little wave. Mulder faced the officer again.

“That depends. What’d he do?”

“Underaged drinking and public intoxication,” the officer said. “I confiscated his fake ID but, he’s never been a problem before so I didn’t charge him. Next time, I won’t have a choice.”

“There won’t be a next time,” Mulder replied. “Thank you, officer.”

The officer nodded and headed back to his patrol car. Mulder looked to Will.

“Get in the house,” he said, trying to keep calm. Will saluted sarcastically and stumbled inside. As Mulder shut the door, he heard Will flop on the couch. “You scared the hell out of us, William. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I’m not sorry and I can’t promise that it won’t happen again?” he retorted with a smirk.

“This isn’t funny, William.” Mulder pinched the bridge of his nose. He was so not in the mood to deal with a drunk teenager.

“Go to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“Will we, though? Or, will you be out chasing little green men?”

“William,” Mulder groaned.

“ _Grey_! My bad!” Will grinned a sarcastic grin and leaned forward, adding a snide, “You taught me better than that.” Mulder must have made a face because William scoffed. “Whatever. I’ll go home in the morning.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Forget it.”

“No, William, you want to do this now, we’ll do it now.”

Will didn’t reply, but instead attempted to get up off the couch. Mulder let out a sigh and offered his hand. Will only smacked it away and stretched out.

Mulder sat on the coffee table and watched him for a moment.

“Stop staring at me,” Will snapped.

“What’s going on with you, Will?” he asked softly.

Will scoffed. “Like you care.”

“I _do_ care. You’re my son.” Mulder was well aware of the desperation in his voice. This was the longest conversation they’d had since Will had asked to live with him and, admittedly, probably the most honest one they’d had in years.

“It’s not your problem.”

“You’re my fifteen-year-old son. It _is_ my problem.”

“Nooooo,” Will drawled drunkenly, his eyes closed. “It’s mine. You can’t have it.”

“What’s _your_ problem, Will?” Mulder asked, changing tactics.

When Will didn’t respond, Mulder assumed he’d passed out. With a sigh, he rose from the coffee table.

“Dad.”

“Yeah, bud?”

“You left _us_. We just moved out first.”

Will’s words hit Mulder like Mack truck. Before he had a chance to respond, Will continued.

“No matter how hard I try to protect her from you, she still… I’m starting to think she’s just as crazy as you are. But, I mean it… I’ll fuckin’ kill you myself if you hurt her again.”

“Will…” Mulder tried to reply. His son either didn’t hear him in his drunken state or ignored him.

“She might not see it, but I do. I’m not ignorant and I’m not stupid and I’m not going to ignore it.”

“Will, I’m not going to hurt your mother again. Or, you.”

“I’m already fuckin’ done with you. But, I swear to God, I will kill you if you hurt her again.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. I’m not kidding, Fox.  I will kill you _so_ fast. It’s worth being tried as an adult.”

Mulder wasn’t at all surprised by the sincerity in his son’s voice. The boy had always been protective of his mother. In fact, it was one of the many things that Mulder had admired about his son. It was being referred to by his first name that had shaken him.

William was done with him and that solidified it. Mulder knew he’d have to work infinitely harder to repair the damage and prove to William that he could be trusted not only with Scully’s heart, but his as well.

“I promise, William,” he said again, but Will was already passed out.

With a sigh, Mulder went upstairs to call Scully and let her know that William was safe and, against all odds, had shown up on his doorstep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: high schools like Will’s new one do actually exist. There aren’t many of them in the States, but my cousin is a teacher at one. They really do give their students an Associate’s when they graduate in the advanced program.
> 
> Second thing, Will’s assignment from Dr. Jake is actually something I’ve heard of therapists doing. I have a couple of friends who are psychologists who do this. That’s where I got the idea. So, If you haven’t read the chapter summaries for Modern Heart Exhibit, check them out. 😬


	21. Tick...Tick...Tick...Boom.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My Struggle 1, part one. 
> 
> Takes place a few weeks after the end of the last chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm completely overwhelmed by how much you guys enjoyed Modern Heart Exhibit! I did NOT expect that kind of a reaction! Here's this part and the rest of "My Struggle 1" will be uploaded tomorrow. :) 
> 
> Okay, so I'm like 98% positive that the majority of this episode did not take place over a couple of days because that makes no sense at all. So, I have it taking place over several days.
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTE: this is my one and only disclaimer on the subject: From here on out, anything you read that was on-screen, I OBVIOUSLY did not write and I'm not taking credit for that. We're officially into the revival stuff so, I'm throwing that out there so I don't get sued if the wrong (or, right?) person reads this. If you sue me, you'll probably just get my XBox, and I'm pretty partial to my Xbox. So, please don't.

Scully let out a sigh as she prepped for surgery, scrubbing meticulously as they’d taught her to do in medical school. If everything went right with this one, she would be out of the hospital at a decent time. Maybe, she’d even be out of there in time to pick Will up from school and take him for coffee before dropping him off at the conservatory for his lesson.

Part of her didn’t want to get her hopes up, she mused silently as she stared at the child on the screen above her. Nothing about this procedure was easy. Still, there was something about operating on children that always made her eager to get home to her own child.

“Excuse me, Dr. Scully?” a voice said, getting her attention.

She turned her head. “Yes?” She wondered if the young woman before her was new.

“You have a phone call.”

“I’m just heading into surgery,” Scully replied.

“That’s what I told him,” the nurse replied. “But, he said it was important.”

He.

That meant it was Mulder, William, or William’s principal. Again. The last thing she needed right now was for William to be suspended again for fighting. He was already on a short leash right now as it was. Without being able to count on Mulder’s help for the time being, she was in this alone with him.

William and his father still weren’t on speaking terms. Not for lack of trying on Mulder’s part; she had to give him credit for being persistent.

“Who is it?” Scully heard herself ask.

“His name is Walter Skinner,” the younger woman said, a slight question in her voice. More confidently, she added, “Assistant Director, FBI.”

Scully heaved a sigh. She knew damn well that this wasn’t a social call. Experience taught her that random phone calls from Skinner usually meant that the FBI needed her. Or, Mulder. Or, both of them, for as much as she hated that notion. And, it usually meant that the reason had something to do with the X-Files.

Were the X-Files open again?

She pushed the thought from her mind. Scully didn’t care if they were open again. At least, that’s what she’d told herself since the day she’d found out they’d been closed. She’d walked away from that life for a reason.

God, she’d almost rather be talking to William’s principal.

* * *

 

Scully waited on the corner where Mulder said that he’d meet her, staring at the Capitol Building. Every part of her was dreading this meeting. It wasn’t even the fact that this would be the first time she’d be alone with Mulder, outside of Dr. Hadley’s office, in a while. They’d gone to therapy regularly without William but, with their son no longer willing to so much as talk to his father, she’d essentially become a single, working parent. She barely had time for herself anymore, let alone to try to squeeze in some kind of personal life.

All she could think about was that this Tad O’Malley guy was going to bring Mulder back around to his X-Files frame of mind and that her husband would drag her right back with him. She didn’t want that. She couldn’t handle it. She didn't Mulder to regress to that. He'd come such a long way. _Finally_.

God knew the last thing _she_ wanted to do was jump back into chasing monsters and myths. Scully had William to take care of and she had patients who needed her. Yet, she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that she was going to regret agreeing to this.

Scully turned around as a car pulled up to the curb and Mulder promptly got out of it.

“Uber?” she asked, wondering why he didn't just bring his own vehicle.

“Hitchhiked.” She must have made a face because he chuckled. “Relax, Scully. I’m kidding.”

She fought a frown. “I just worry about you, Mulder.”

For as much as she hated to admit it, she did worry about him. Too much sometimes. Part of her knew that she always would. Separation aside, he was still her husband. He was still the father of her son. More than that, she still loved him; despite William’s opinion on the situation.

“Not to worry, Doc; I’m taking good care of myself.”

Looking at him, she somehow doubted that. He went to therapy with her, which was more than she could have hoped for prior to their separation, but something about him was off. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

“It’s good for you to get out of that little house every once in a while,” she said after a moment, trying to lighten the mood.

“It certainly was good for you.”

Scully forced a smile, trying to ignore the sting of his retort. “I’m always happy to see you.”

“And, I’m always happy to find a reason,” he replied. Now, _that_ she didn’t doubt.

Mulder glanced around. “I assume Will’s at the conservatory?”

“He is,” Scully confirmed awkwardly. She knew that Mulder had been hoping to catch sight of their son. The last time the two of them saw each other, William had shown up on Mulder's doorstep, escorted by the police, and so drunk he could hardly remember it the next morning. That, she knew for fact, was the only contact they'd had since their fight - or, what she still assumed was a fight. Neither one of her boys had talked to her about it.

“How is he?” he asked in a deferential tone.

Scully studied him for a moment before saying, “He’s… William.” She didn’t have to see his eyes to know he was giving her that questioning gaze from behind his sunglasses. She knew what that gaze felt like. Scully let out a sigh. “He puts all of his energy into the piano.”

Mulder must’ve known there was more because he said, “But?”

“But, he’s still fighting. A lot. He runs until he physically can’t run anymore. The other day, he called me to pick him up ten miles away because couldn’t walk home.” She hesitated before quietly adding, “He’s still angry.”

Before Mulder could respond, a limo pulled up beside them.

Tad O’Malley, she assumed with a sigh.

Scully was definitely going to regret this.

* * *

 

Will checked his watch. His mother was supposed to be there forty-five minutes ago. Part of him was starting to worry. It wasn’t unlike her to be late without letting him know.

He’d tried calling her twice already to no avail.

“Where the hell are you, Mom?” he grumbled to himself, looking around the corner when he spotted what he thought was her vehicle.

He was prepared to be seriously pissed if this was her way of getting him to communicate with his father. He’d rather walk all the way back to their house than call his father for a ride. Hell, he’d rather walk across the country than do that.

No, Will Mulder was not going to cave now. No way.

Several more minutes flew by and he pulled out his phone to call his grandmother.

* * *

 

Scully swabbed Sveta’s mouth, wondering just how in the hell she got roped into this. Again. She’d even seen it coming and had carefully crafted a reply that politely told Mr. O’Malley and Mulder where to shove it.

Yet, there she was, swabbing the mouth of a young woman who was convinced she had alien DNA.

 _Alien_ DNA.

The thought made Scully’s blood run cold in her veins. Unlike Mulder, she _didn’t_ want to believe this. She couldn’t.

“If you roll up your sleeve, I’ll get some blood, too,” Scully said quietly.

No, she did not want to believe this. If doing these tests proved them wrong, then so be it. The selfish part of her wanted the tests to come back negative. If they came back negative, she could carry on with her life and leave the meeting as nothing more than an unpleasant memory.

“I know you’re doubtful about this,” the young woman said.

“What makes you say that, Sveta?” She asked, trying to keep the sarcasm at bay.

“I’m kind of a mind reader.”

“Is that a personal trait or is that what happens with alien DNA?”

She could practically hear Will’s voice telling her that it was a "savage" retort. Scully forced herself to dial back. It wasn’t going to help her get out of this any quicker.

“I can move things with my mind.” There was a solemnness to Sveta’s answer that caused Scully to think about when William was a baby; the first night she’d seen him moving his mobile from his crib. Her heart began to pound.

“Would you care to demonstrate?” she retorted.

“I can’t do it all the time.”

Convenient.

“So, it just… happens whenever.”

“I don’t know how to control it.”

Scully swallowed hard as she turned around. Had it been like that for William? Was that what happened when he shattered his snow globes?

Before she could delve any deeper into her thought, Sveta continued, “You were a couple before.” The younger woman seemed almost surprised by her own words.

“I’m sorry, what?” Scully asked, genuinely taken back by the statement.

“You and Mr. Mulder. You were together, but now you’re not.”

Scully felt herself tense. Not knowing how else to answer, she semi-sarcastically asked, “You reading my mind, Sveta?”

When Sveta started talking about Mulder’s depression, Scully couldn’t but wonder for a split second if she really could read minds. But, when she mentioned William, Scully’s protective nature took over.

“That’s enough,” she warned, jabbing the needle into the girl’s arm. Scully refused to allow William to be dragged into it.

“You believe me now?” Sveta challenged.

Scully thought she could handle the rest of whatever Sveta threw her way, despite how angry and uncomfortable it made her feel. But, then, she had to bring up Scully’s abduction and it was all she could do not to assault the girl right there in the middle of the exam.

All Scully knew for certain was that she had to get out of there. She couldn’t breathe.

* * *

William entered his house, eternally grateful to his grandmother picking him up. From now on, he was going to make sure his mom gave him some money for after the conservatory. At least, he could’ve waited at the coffee shop down the block and had a snack.

“Mom?” he called; although, he knew she wasn’t home. He opened the fridge. No leftovers, either. She hadn’t been home, yet.

He wondered if he should call the police. Would she be considered missing?

Will dropped his backpack on the couch and dug out his new music assignment, decidedly working on his music until his mother arrived. At least, he’d passive-aggressively get the point across that she’d forgotten all about him.

Will let out a sigh.

Where the hell was she?

He’d been playing for several hours when the front door finally opened and he heard his mother sigh.

“It’s about damn time,” he said, rising angrily from the piano bench. “What the hell, Mom?”

She looked at him in confusion for a moment before realization played across her features.

“William, I am so -.”

“Save it,” he growled. “Grandma picked me up.” He scoffed. “I waited for an _hour_ before calling Grandma. The very least that you could have done was text me.”

Will sounded like the parent, he knew that. But, he’d been concerned. It wasn’t like his mother to not communicate with him. Especially, when it meant that he was probably walking home.

She sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Will let out a sigh, too. “You’ve just never forgotten about picking me up before,” he said, willing himself to relax. “I thought… I don’t know what I thought.”

His mother pulled him into a hug. “I’m sorry. It was a… _long_ day.”

“Want to talk about it?” He asked when they pulled apart.

She smiled, “You don’t want to know.”

“Dad?” He asked, quietly. Not that he really needed her to actually tell him; he already knew that much. 

“Partially.”

“You can talk to me about him, you know. I might hate him, but I know you don’t. And, since I don’t hate _you_ …” He shrugged, leaving it at that.

“You don’t need to protect me, Will,” she replied after a moment. “I’m your mother. _I’m_ supposed to be protecting _you_.”

Will shrugged. “I assumed we protect each other. That’s what family does, right?”

She stared at him for a moment like she didn’t know how to respond to that. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving. You didn’t exactly leave me any money to order out.”

“I get it, I get it,” she replied with a grin that made him chuckle. “What sounds good?”

“At this point? Road kill.” His mother grimaced and he laughed. “I don’t care. You pick.”

* * *

 

Scully watched her son for a moment from where his bedroom door was cracked open. He sat at his desk, entirely focused on what looked like homework. He reminded her of Mulder the way sat, hunched over his desk, oblivious to what was going on in the rest of the house. Not that there _was_ anything else going on.

It broke her heart. It had been bad enough to watch her husband slowly fade into that kind of existence, but she couldn’t bear to watch it happen with her child. All he’d done for months was run, work on his piano, sometimes do his homework, and sleep.

Scully had thought that anti-depressants would help him but, like with his father, the pills sat on his desk completely untouched. Will still hadn’t rejoined them in family therapy, but he was still going to his private sessions. In fact, he’d reminded Scully about them on occasion.

It was encouraging, in a way. He’d confessed that the therapy had helped him to make sense of some things, even if Dr. Hadley still annoyed him. If he wasn't going to medicate, Scully was grateful that Will actually looked forward to his sessions.

She’d often seen him jotting something down the small notepad that he kept in his back pocket. She’d asked him about it once and he’d confessed that he wrote down things he didn’t want to forget to bring up in therapy. It had given her hope.

Finally, Scully knocked on the door and pushed it open.

“Will?”

He turned around. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to say goodnight. I’m going to bed.”

He flashed a smile that she didn’t dare tell him made him look like his father. “Goodnight,” he replied pleasantly.

“Don’t stay up too late.”

“I won’t. I’m just going to finish this up and then I’m going to bed, too. I’m almost done.”

“Okay. Goodnight.”

"Night, Mom."

With that, Scully pulled his door closed and made her way to her bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for shameless self-promotion!
> 
> If you like what you're reading, feel free to share the link on your social media (tag me, if you don't mind!). Just don't post this work anywhere without asking me first (like, on other fic archive sites) -- apparently that's a thing I didn't know, until recently, that people do so I'm throwing it out there.
> 
> Twitter: @catebatman  
> \- feel free to follow if you want my random thoughts in 280 characters or less. Or, for links to the newest updates probably faster than AO3 sends notifications to your e-mail. I talk about X-Files a lot. 
> 
> YouTube: youtube.com/catebatman  
> \- feel free to sub for XF fan vids, vlogs, and gaming content.
> 
> Twitch: twitch.tv/catebatman  
> \- Yep! I live stream, too! Sometimes, it's vlog style; sometimes, it's gaming.


	22. Sorry, Seacrest; It's Casey's Countdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My Struggle 1, part 2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Could I have split "My Struggle 1" into three chapters? Yes.  
> Did I? No.  
> That said, this part is extra long. 
> 
> Enjoy.

Will flung his backpack over his shoulder as he exited the music room.

“Mr. Mulder,” a voice said from behind him. Will turned around to see hit lit teacher approaching with a smile.

He arched an eyebrow and said, “Mr. Emerson.”

“Ben,” his teacher corrected him.

“Ben.”

“You weren’t in class today.”

“How kind of you to acknowledge my skill in truancy,” he retorted. “I practice hard.”

“This is the third time you’ve missed this week alone.” The man’s face softened. “What’s going on?” Will scoffed in response. “Believe it or not, Mr. Mulder, I actually do care.”

“First of all, Mr. Mulder is my father. And, I hate my father. It’s Will. Secondly, I didn’t go. Who cares? I left the assignment on your desk long before the beginning of class.”

“Yeah, I got it.” Ben hesitated a moment before saying, “Will, there’s more to class than just turning in homework.”

“No offense, Ben, but there’s nothing you can teach me that I can’t learn on my own. It’s a literature class. A glorified book club. I read the book; I wrote the story. What’s the problem?”

Ben exhaled a heavy sigh as the bell rang.

“Excuse me,” Will said, “I have another class to skip.” With that, he walked away.

* * *

 

Scully entered the classroom, half-surprised to find that Mulder had beaten her there. Truth be told, he probably only showed up because he thought there might be a chance that he’d run into their son. Will, however, was notably absent from this meeting.

A younger man who looked to be in his late-twenties or early-thirties sat on the edge of the desk.

“Hey, Scully,” Mulder greeted. The younger man faced her and smiled.

“Ben Emerson,” he greeted, offering his hand.

“Dana Scully,” she replied, accepting the proffered hand.

“If you wouldn’t mind having a seat,” he said. Scully sat beside her husband.

“What’s going on?” Mulder asked.

“I want to talk to you about Will. Specifically, his attendance.”

“What’s wrong with his attendance?” Scully asked, unable to recall Will saying anything negative about his literature class. In fact, he’d only had positive things to relay to her.

“I’m going to guess that he’s not attending,” Mulder quipped, warranting a glare from Scully.

“You’re not wrong,” Ben said, gripping the desk as he leaned back on it. “I admit that I’m fairly new at teaching – this is only my third year – but, Will is one of the brightest kids I’ve ever met. He has a gift.” A look of wonder took up residence on the man’s face which sent a surge of pride through Scully. “He understands literature on a level that I didn’t until grad school. Will has the happy fate of being an excellent critic and an outstanding wordsmith.”

“So, what’s the problem?” Mulder interjected.

“Mulder,” Scully admonished.

Ben sighed. “This week, _alone_ , he’s skipped three periods. I saw him in the hall and asked him about it but he brushed it off and proceeded to skip his next class.” He paused and then said, “I want him to succeed here. If anyone belongs in a school like this, it’s Will. But, they’re not going to let him get away with this and I want to help him before it’s too late.”

“He’s cutting class,” Scully echoed.

“Yes. And, not just mine. I know of three others that he consistently skips and I’d be willing to bet that there’s more.” Ben cleared his throat and awkwardly asked, “How are things at home?”

“What?” Mulder choked out.

“More often than not when kids display the kind of behavior that Will does, it’s one of two things: trouble at home or drugs.”

“What kind of behavior?” Mulder asked, beating Scully to the question.

“He’s moody, withdrawn. He’s prone to fighting and frequently cuts class.”

“You think he’s on drugs?” Scully asked.

“I can’t answer that. He turns in every assignment, reads every book, but on the off-chance that he shows up to class, he’s late and he doesn’t participate.”

“Is he disruptive?” she asked.

“Just the opposite. He sits there and draws.” Ben paused again. “What’s he like at home?”

Scully felt Mulder’s eyes on her. She cleared her throat before answering. “He’s fine,” she replied. “He plays the piano – I don’t know if you knew that. He studies at a conservatory in Alexandria. But, he isn’t showing any abnormal behavior when he’s with me.”

Ben glanced between them and winced. “Oh, I’m sorry. You’re divorced?”

“Separated,” Mulder said a little too quickly for Scully’s taste. Ben didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he nodded for a couple of seconds.

“Mr. Mulder, how is he when he’s with you?”

Mulder tensed. “He, um, I don’t see him much. He’s not very happy with me right now.”

A blanket of awkward silence wrapped itself around the room before Ben spoke up again. “Have either of you read his latest homework assignment?”

Scully shook her head. Ben reached behind himself, took a stapled packet of paper off the desk, and handed it to her. She looked down at the first page. The words “The Triptych” were typed across the middle of the page with “Will Mulder” in a smaller font underneath them.

“The Triptych?” she asked.

“That assignment is the only thing keeping him from failing out of this class at this point. If he doesn’t get his grade up by semester, his counselor will pull him from the class. He’s too bright to be in a lower class.” Ben pointed to the paper in her hand. “After reading _that_ , I’m starting to think he’s too smart for this class, too.”

“What is it?” Mulder asked.

“Short story. We read _Great Expectations_ for our last novel. The assignment was to take the prompt from the novel and turn it into their own short story.” Ben hesitated a moment. “Will has a story to tell and I don’t think he realizes that people want to listen. The way he tells it… the way he breaks it up… Well, I hope he pursues writing. He’s a heck of a storyteller. I couldn’t put that down.”

Scully glanced to Mulder and then back at Ben.

“He has a gift,” Ben continued. “I can’t say that enough. I gave him A. That story deserves it.” He swallowed and quietly added, “You both need to read it. As his parents, you might be able to pick up on something that I couldn’t.”

“We will,” Mulder promised as Scully skimmed through the pages. His story was split into portions, tiny sub-stories revolving around the same nameless character. Scully couldn’t wait to read it from start to finish.

“If he isn’t already, have you considered getting him into counseling?” That got Scully’s attention and she looked back to Will’s teacher. “He’s struggling with something, writing what he knows,” he clarified. "I'm not trying to be... What I mean to say is that..."

"We know what you're trying to say," Mulder said, putting the younger man out of his misery.

“Will sees someone,” Scully added.

Ben nodded. “I’m just trying to figure out how to help him.”

“We appreciate that,” Mulder replied, beating her to it.

Scully glanced back at the story in her hands, eager to read what her son had written. From the way Mulder kept eyeing it, she was certain he was just as eager as she was.

* * *

 

Mulder walked with Scully to her vehicle. She’d promised to let him read the story that Will had written as soon as she’d read it.

_He has a story to tell…_

The words echoed in his mind. Mulder couldn’t help but wonder what story it was that William could write down and turn in but not tell _them_. Was it that bad?

“Hey, Scully?”

She turned around. “Yes?”

“What do you think Ben meant when he said that Will has a story to tell?”

Scully sighed. “I don’t know. But, I have a feeling we’re about to find out,” she said, holding up the packet. She paused for a moment before holding it out to him. “Here.”

“You don’t want it to read it first?”

“I’m sure he has it saved. If it’s as good as Ben said it is, you know William isn’t going to just delete it. If he has… I’ll get that from you at Dr. Hadley’s office.”

Mulder nodded.

“I’ll see you later, Mulder,” she said.

“Yeah,” he replied, glancing back to the story in his hands.

The first thing he did when he got home was sit on the couch and read Will's story.

* * *

 

Scully let out a sigh, thinking about everything that had happened the last couple of days: Tad O’Malley, Sveta, Will… She needed for things to slow down just long enough that she could catch her breath. But, of course, they wouldn’t slow down. She knew that.

“Dr. Scully?” a voice asked. Scully shut the laptop in front of her. “I’ve got your test results back.”

“Thank you,” she replied and looked over them. Something didn’t quite sit right with her. “Nurse?” she called. The nurse came back in the room. “I need you to do something.”

“Of course!” the nurse replied.

Scully circled the a few of the samples in front of her as she said, “I need these samples retested.”

“Is there a problem with them?”

Before she could answer, she was being beckoned into the operating room.

“I just want them retested, please,” she said, forcing a smile. “Oh! And, I’m expecting a call – well, I’m hoping for a call – from somebody named Mulder.”

The nurse smiled and nodded.

When she was finally able to leave the hospital, Scully still had no word from Mulder. They’d met with Will’s teacher two days ago and she hadn’t heard from him until he called her last night, during her non-date no less, and hung up on her. Frankly, she was somewhere between worried and pissed off.

Scully hadn’t even realized that she’d driven out to his house until she was arguing with him on the porch. Of course, she thought, Sveta would be there. No wonder Mulder hadn’t called her. He’d known exactly how she’d react.

But, she didn’t react that way. At least, she didn’t think she had. Instead, she gave up. It was the look in his eyes and the realization that she didn’t know what it was she was seeing in them. It hurt. Part of her had wondered if that was the look William had seen in his father’s eyes the night he’d been shattered into a million pieces. Lord knew that look would’ve done it. It had managed to shatter _her_.

“You know what you’re doing,” she finally said, defeated, and shoved his hands off of her.

Scully retreated down the steps and walked angrily toward her car. William had been right, she thought: she hadn’t been the one to leave. As she fastened her seatbelt, she saw the look on Mulder’s face. Scully had to get out of there. Fast.

She’d be damned if she let him see her break. Not this time; not now.

Naturally, as she tried to make her escape someone blocked her in. She let out a defeated sigh when Tad O’Malley approached her vehicle.

Of course, it would be him.

* * *

 

Will felt his eyes narrow when he noticed multiple vehicles in his father’s driveway. His father didn’t have friends. So, why the hell was there a limo?

That was when he noticed his mother’s vehicle. Suddenly, his heart was pounding. What the hell was she doing here?

Will grabbed the small box of shit he’d cleared from his bedroom and thanked his Uber driver before exiting the vehicle and cautiously making his way into the house. He’d planned to leave the box on the porch, but he wasn’t about to leave his mother alone; not with his asshole of a father and who-the-hell-ever else was in that house.

When he entered the house, he was greeted by the confused looks of two strangers.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked before either of them had a chance to say anything. “And, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Tad O’Malley,” the man greeted, offering his hand to Will. Will glanced to the box in his hands and arched an eyebrow. “Right.”

“Tad O’Malley,” Will repeated slowly. He glanced to the other stranger and then back at O'Malley. “That’s part of the who and none of the why.”

“This is Sveta,” Tad explained. “We’re meeting with Fox Mulder.” Will glanced around to highlight the complete lack of his father’s presence. “He went upstairs for a minute.”

“Right. So, why is my mom’s car here? Judging by your faces, I can’t imagine this is kind sort of meeting she’d want any part of.”

“You’re…” Tad said, a look of wonder present on his face. He opened his mouth to continue but was cut off.

“Will? What are you doing here?”

Will turned to see his mother walking down the stairs. 

“What are _you_ doing here?” Will stiffened when his father appeared a few steps behind his mother. “Please, tell me you’re not here for the reason I think you’re here.”

“Will…” his father began.

“Let me know when you’re leaving,” he said, completely ignoring his father. “I sent the Uber guy on his merry way.” He paused and added, “I’ll be upstairs.”

 

When the voices got loud enough to penetrate the sanctuary that was his room, Will sat at the top of the stairs to listen. He’d only needed about ten minutes of research to realize that this Tad O’Malley guy was a complete whack job. In a way, it made sense as to why he was in his father’s house.

What he _couldn’t_ believe was what they were talking about. An alien takeover of the United States? Why not Russia or Belgium or some other country? Hell, why not the entire planet? It was stupid, even for a theory his father would come up with.

When Will couldn’t take the absurdity anymore, he made his way downstairs. No one seemed to notice in the midst of their heated discussion.

“No, she’s right,” he blurted. Suddenly, all eyes were on him.  Will stopped at the edge of the couch, standing behind where his mother was seated in solidarity. “You can’t say any of that.”

“I’m going to,” Tad O’Malley said again, resolute in his idiocy. “People have a right to know.”

Will scoffed and retorted, “Snowden said the same thing. Look what happened to him.”

“What’s your point?”

“He worked for the CIA and had _actual proof_!”

“I might just be a reporter, but so do I.”

“A report-? You’re an idiot with a YouTube channel! What you’re doing is domestic terrorism!” Will spat. The room fell silent at the mention of the T-word. He scoffed. “You don’t have proof. You have scars that could, very easily, be self-inflicted. And this bullshit about alien DNA? _Seriously_? We’re not on the freakin’ SyFy channel! God! _Wake the fuck up_!” Will spun to face his father. “And, _you_! God, you’re so fucking-.” He faced his mother without so much as taking a breath and continued, “you-you married a crazy person. You do realize that, right?”

No one said anything and Will let out a heavy breath before running his hand through his hair. “I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with all of you but as, apparently, the only _sane_ person here, keep talking like this and I _will_ report you.”

“Will-,” Mulder tried.

“Don’t push me!” Will growled.

There was a brief moment of heated silence before Tad O’Malley broke it.

“How are you their son and not a believer?” His tone was one of complete disbelief.

“Biology and realism,” Will deadpanned. He faced his mother. “I’ll be at the car.”

* * *

 

Scully watched as Will slammed the door behind him.

“He’s not wrong,” she said before informing them of the test results. The last thing she saw before leaving was their defeated faces.

When she got outside, Scully saw Will leaning against the SUV.

“I forgot to get your keys and, after that exit, I wasn’t about to back in the house,” he said.

Scully sighed. “I think you owe your father an apology.”

“I don’t owe him anything,” Will replied bitterly.

“Will-.”

“Mom, I swear to God, if you defend him…”

Scully let out a sigh and Will growled in frustration. “What in the actual fuck is _wrong_ with him?”

“That’s enough, William,” she reprimanded him firmly. “I understand that you’re upset-.”

“Upset doesn’t _begin_ to cover it.”

“Regardless, that’s enough.” He made a face like he was about to protest and Scully added, “I’m not joking, William.”

Will ran his fingers through his hair and let out a sigh.

“Let’s just go home,” he said, getting into the vehicle the second the door was unlocked.

A knot formed in her stomach. Scully hadn’t wanted this for her son. Truth be told, she hadn’t wanted it for Mulder, either. But, it happened. It happened like everything always happened because, God-forbid, she actually catch some kind of break when it came to her personal life and the people in it.

The drive was spent in a frustrated silence until Scully pulled the vehicle into their driveway and killed the engine.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, as Will unbuckled himself.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Mom,” he sighed. “Dad’s crazy; that’s nothing new. I can admit that I didn’t see _that_ coming, but I probably should have.”

“What do you mean?”

“My entire life he’s told me stories about mothmen and flukemen and aliens and Bigfoot and liver-eating mutants. I should have known he was insane. I just… I don’t know.” He paused before adding, “He’s always cared more about that stuff so, I don’t know why I’m so surprised.”

“He loves you more than you can imagine, William.”

“Yeah, well, that bar is set pretty low,” he grumbled.

“He’s… complicated. But, nothing you could do will make Dad love you any less. He might get disappointed when you -.”

“When _I_ disap – _he’s_ the disappointment!” Will snapped.

“What is going on with you tonight, Will?” When he didn’t answer quickly enough, she pressed, “Does this have something to do with the fight you had? Is that why you brought over that box of-?”

Will’s growl cut her off. “We didn’t have a _fight_ , Mom.” He shut his eyes and exhaled a heavy breath, as though willing himself to calm down. He swallowed and looked her in the eye as he said, “I asked if I could move in with him.” Scully was stunned. Will looked away as he added, “He said no. He gave me some bullshit excuse as to why, but it was what I saw in his eyes that made me realize…”

“Will-.”

“He doesn’t care about us, Mom. Based on my conversation with him, he stopped caring a long time ago.”

“William,” she whispered ruefully, unable to get her voice any louder.

Will shook his head ruefully. “It’s okay, Mom. We’re better off without him. We’ll be _fine_ without him. Let’s just move on.”

Will shot her a look that broke her heart. He was more concerned with her in that moment than he was his own heartache. She didn’t need to feel that from him; she could see it in his eyes. Mulder was right about Will’s eyes: they were expressive.

Her sweet, sweet boy.

He had always had a protective side – whether it was because he’d always been a mommy’s boy or because he’d picked up on Mulder’s behavior from such a young age. Scully loved him for it, but he was _her_ baby. She should be the one protecting him.

He’d gotten out of the car before she realized it.

“Damn it, Mulder,” she whispered to the steering wheel as she watched Will go in the house. “What exactly did you say to him?”

* * *

 

“Hey,” Scully greeted as Will entered the kitchen. He was still in the black pajama pants and green Slytherin t-shirt he’d worn when he’d gone to bed.

“Hey,” he replied, equally as cautious. He observed her for a quick moment before making his way to the coffee pot but didn’t reach into the cabinet for a mug.

“Did you sleep at all?” she asked, knowing that he probably didn’t.

“Couple hours,” Will confessed before he turned around, leaning back against the counter. “There’s, uh, something I want to talk to you about.” 

“What?”

“I’ve been thinking about this for awhile now and, after last night, I finally have the guts to bring it up.” He hesitated and Scully waited patiently. Whatever it was, it wasn’t easy for him to say. “I want to change my last name. To Scully.”

“William…”

“I’ve thought about it a lot, Mom. I know my birth certificate said Scully when I was born. You didn’t give me his name until you guys got married. But, I want nothing to do with him and the only thing tying me to him right now, aside from genetics, is his name. I can’t exactly edit biology, but this is something I _can_ do. It’s one tie that I _can_ sever.” She opened her mouth to tell him no, but he threw up a hand, stopping her protest before she had a chance to vocalize it. “Just… think about it before you say no. Okay? Please?”

With a defeated sigh, Scully nodded. Although, she had no intention of changing his name.

“Thank you.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I’m going to stay home from school today, okay? After last night, I can’t deal with that, too.”

“Okay,” she agreed.

Will arched a skeptical eyebrow. “Really?”

“It was a hard night for both of us.”

Scully watched as Will nodded absently. She could see in his eyes that there was something else on his mind and she waited patiently for him to say it.

Finally, he met her gaze with a soft look. It was a look she certainly hadn’t expected to see from him for quite some time. Not after last night.

“Um… I took the pills,” he confessed. “And, I, um… I’m gonna keep taking them.” Will nodded almost like he was trying to convince himself.

Scully was stunned. That was the last thing she’d expected to hear from him – even, above asking to change his name.

“I think I’m going to go back to bed and try to sleep for a couple hours.”

“Okay,” she replied softly. “I love you, William.”

“Love you, too,” he said and left the kitchen.

She heard his door shut after a moment.

 _I’ll keep taking them_.

She couldn’t get his words out of her head. It wasn’t so much the words themselves that were significant but, rather, the weight of their implication. What he’d been telling her, she knew, was that he’d begun and would continue to take his anti-depressants because his father never would.

William had watched his father’s descent as closely as she had. The only difference was that William hadn’t begged for Mulder to get better the way that she had. He’d asked silently and Mulder had been too far gone at the time to pick up on it. Right now, her son was determined to be different from his father in any way that he could be. It, both, gave her hope and broke her heart.

Scully never wanted this for her son. She never wanted it for her husband, either. She sure as hell never wanted to play mediator between the two most important people to her.

She wouldn’t have to anymore, Scully supposed. William had stopped fighting; he’d thrown in the towel. He’d walked away.

Just like she had done.

Some role models they were. Her baby, her entire world, was as depressed as his father and ran away like his mother.

* * *

 

A knock on the door got Will’s attention and he jumped up from his spot at the piano.

“Food’s here!” he called, his stomach growling in anticipation.

“The money’s on the –!” his mother called back but he found it before she could finish.

“Got it!”

When he opened the door, his stomach instantly twisted into a furious knot.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded in a low, icy tone.

“I just…” His father began, but didn’t finish.

“Leave. Now.”

“Will –.”

Angrily, Will shoved him back and stepped outside, glancing in the house to make sure his mother didn’t see what was happening as he pulled the door shut behind him.

He whipped around to face his father, growling, “stay the hell away from us!” loudly enough to make his point but quietly enough as not to draw his mother’s attention.

“I just want –.”

"I don’t care what you want. You lost that right when you chose your fantasies over your family. So, leave and _do not_ come back.” When his father didn’t move, Will added a firm, “Now.”

His father nodded in defeat and turned around but stopped after taking a couple of steps. “Will you, at least, tell your mom –.”

“No,” Will interjected firmly. “Leave _her_ alone. Leave _me_ alone. I swear to God, Fox, I _will_ get a restraining order if I have to and I dare you to test me on that.”

Mulder let out a sigh, nodded, and began to walk away in time for the delivery person to show up. Will accepted the food, paid the man, and went back inside to find his mother headed toward the door.

“What took so long?” she asked.

“Delivery guy was chatty,” he replied, plastering on a fake, sugarcoated smile. She eyed him suspiciously but, thankfully, didn’t press. “Haven’t had Italian food in a while,” he said, taking the food to the living room. His mother stared at him. “What? Don’t tell me we’re eating at the table! We’re playing hooky today! It’s just… wrong to not eat in the living room while bingeing Turner Classics.”

She chuckled and said, “I’ll get plates.”

Will breathed a breath of relief as she went into the kitchen. She believed him.

“And, I’m not playing hooky,” she added, causing him to chuckle. “I have to go to the hospital for a little while after lunch.”

“Oh, come on!” he said in mock disappointment.

“I’m sorry, Will. I would stay if -.” She caught his smirk. “You little brat,” she said, unable to hide a grin and causing him to laugh.

He scooted over on the couch as she handed a plate to him.

* * *

 

Scully let out a sigh as she made her way to her vehicle. All she could think about was Tad O’Malley’s outrageous claims and alien DNA.

Sveta had alien DNA.

 _She_ had alien DNA.

Suddenly, she thought about Will, sitting at home – most likely at his piano. Oh, God. Did he have it, too?

Scully thought she might be sick.

It took a moment to realize that there was something different about the back windshield. She wondered if Will had written “Wash Me” in the dust again.

But, he hadn’t.

 _Don’t give up_.

It was written in distinct handwriting and she turned around, looking for her husband.

“There’s something called the Venus syndrome,” Mulder said, coming out of the shadows. “It’s a runaway global warming scenario that leads us to the brink of the Sixth Extinction.” Scully sighed at the prospect of his monologue. She didn’t need this right now. She wanted to get home and hug her son. “Those with means will prepare to move off the planet into space, which has already been weaponized against the poor, huddled masses of humanity that haven’t been exterminated by the uber-violent fascist elites,” he continued. “If you believe in that kind of thing…”

“You look exhausted, Mulder,” she mused aloud.

“It was a long day at the office,” he replied.

“I don’t know if you saw, but Tad O’Malley pulled the plug.”

“They’re very good these guys. You know?”

“And, what about Sveta?” she heard herself ask. “Where is she?”

“I’m sure they scared her to death.”

“We need to find her, Mulder. We need to protect her. No matter what.”

Mulder’s eyes softened. “Why? You said her tests came back negative.”

“I ran them again,” Scully confessed. “In fact, I sequenced her entire genome because I didn’t trust the initial results.”

“Are you saying she has alien DNA?”

“And, I sequenced my own genome because of my history,” Scully continued, “and… because we have a child together."

“Scully… what are you saying?” Mulder asked, a mix of caution and protectiveness in his voice and eyes.

“I’m saying she’s not the only one. I’m saying someone has to stop these sons of bitches.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, neither one wanting to say what they were both thinking.

“What about Will?” Mulder asked finally breaking the silent stalemate.

“I don’t know,” Scully confessed. “I’ll have to test him.” She scoffed at her own suggestion. “God, what am I supposed to tell him?”

“The truth.”

“Mulder, you know he doesn’t believe in any of this. He’s more likely to -.” Scully was cut off by her cellphone.

“Skinner,” they announced in unison. She had no doubt that they’d been sent the same text message, the same call to arms.

“Scully, are you ready for this?” Mulder asked.

Under any other circumstance, she would have said no and walked away entirely. But, it wasn’t just them at stake. William was at stake. Scully would do whatever it took to protect her son. She knew Mulder would, too.

“I don’t know that there’s a choice.”

Mulder nodded his agreement, seeming to understand the implication.

Scully let out a sigh. They were going to re-open the X-Files. She was sure of it. This time, she’d go willingly.

For William.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: I had a teacher in high school like Ben -- barely out of grad school and wanted to be called by his first name. I liked him so, I based Ben off of him. 
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	23. Bigger Scars Make Better Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Begins where the last chapter ends. Takes place between MS1 and Founder's Mutation.

Mulder let out a sigh as they made their way to Scully’s vehicle. The X-Files were officially open again. Under any other circumstance, he would be elated. The timing, he thought, could not have been worse where his family was concerned.

His son hated him. His wife was tolerating him. And, naturally, to top it all off, there was an immediate threat to the people Mulder loved most. No, he couldn’t find it in himself to be elated right now.

“Are you ready for this?” Mulder heard himself ask. Scully looked at him with that questioning look of hers. “For the X-Files?”

She let out a sigh and echoed what she’d said to him earlier, “I don’t think we have a choice.”

Scully didn’t have to elaborate for Mulder to know that she was referring to William. Their meeting with Skinner had made it abundantly clear – although, the other man hadn’t considered William in his assessment of why they should come back. The things they’d been told, however, pointed to the questions Mulder would always harbor regarding his son. Scully, he suspected, was thinking the same things he was.

No, they didn’t have a choice. They had to protect their son at all cost.

“Mulder,” Scully began. There was a caution to her tone that unnerved him.

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you tell me that Will asked to live with you?”

Mulder sighed. This wasn’t exactly the conversation he’d wanted to have today. “I couldn’t do that to you,” he said simply.

She was silent for a moment before she continued. “You should have told me,” she said softly. “If I had known how miserable he was…”

“Scully, don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Blame yourself.” Mulder let out a heavy breath.

“He thinks you don’t want him,” his wife said in a tone that sent a shiver down his spine. He hated that tone.

“That’s not true.”

“I didn’t say it was,” Scully sighed. “But, he _thinks_ it is.”

“And, that’s why he hates me.” Mulder ran his fingers through his hair. “I wasn’t about to take him from you, Scully. If he’d waited to ask or if he’d asked to stay when you left… I wouldn’t do that.”

“Like I did,” she stated carefully.

“That’s not what I meant.” He paused before continuing. “We weren’t supposed to be able to have him. Somehow, we did. But, he would have been just as miserable with me if I had said yes.”

“Why didn’t you say anything about it?” Scully asked again. “We could’ve worked through it together, Mulder. We could’ve taken it into our sessions with Dr. Hadley, if we need to.”

“I wanted you to hear it from him.”

She was getting frustrated. Years of loving the woman gave him enough insight to know that particular shift in her countenance.

“Scully, I wanted him to tell you because what could I say? Things were already so rocky between all of us that I didn’t break anything else.”

Scully was silent for a couple of minutes and Mulder didn’t push. Finally, she said, “We’re going to have to tell him that we’re working together again.”

“He’s gonna be thrilled about that,” Mulder grumbled.

“Maybe, it’ll be a good thing,” she offered. “If he sees us together…”

“He’ll kill me.”

“Mulder,” Scully replied, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Oh, I’m not joking. He made a point to tell me that, several times, the night he ran off and got drunk.” Mulder paused before adding, “He reiterated it, more or less, when I stopped by your place earlier.”

“You stopped by earlier?” she replied in surprise.

Mulder sighed, “I’m not surprised he didn’t tell you.”

“What did he say?”

“Oh, you know… ‘get the hell out of here’, ‘don’t come back’… ‘leave us alone’. The usual.”

“I’m sorry, Mulder,” she sighed. “I had no idea.” Scully paused before asking, “What did you come over about?”

“I was bringing you the short story he wrote since we canceled on Dr. Jake to meet with Tad O’Malley.”

“That was a mistake,” Scully grumbled. Mulder smirked. “How was it, his story?”

“Well, his teacher was right: Will is a _very_ good writer.”

“But?”

Mulder winced. “But, you need to read it.”

“Is it bad?”

“It’s…” he paused looking for the right word to explain the complexity of what their son had written. “Informative.”

Scully let out a sigh.

* * *

Scully entered the house and set her keys on the small table by the door. She’d hoped to come home to the sound of Will on the piano, something that showed her he’d had an okay day and would be more receptive to what she had to say to him. But, silence echoed throughout the house.

“Will?” she called, setting her purse on the kitchen table. He didn’t respond. Truth be told, after the encounter at his father’s and their conversation this morning, she didn’t quite expect him to.

With a sigh, she headed to his room and knocked on the door. When he didn’t answer, Scully pushed it open. The room was vacant.

Panic rose in her. He’d taken off once. Who was to say that he wouldn’t do it again? Especially, given what she’d learned about his conversation with Mulder.

Before Scully had a chance to pull out her phone and call him, the front door opened and her sweaty son entered the house. She exhaled a relieved breath. He’d only gone running.

Will arched an eyebrow and removed an earbud, a confused stare present on his face. “What?”

“Nothing,” she sighed. “I just… I didn’t know where you were.”

“I went for a run,” he replied, stretching his quads for a moment. “Now, I’m going to take a shower,” Will added facetiously.

“Will…”

“Yeah?” he asked, spinning to face her.

“I want you to go the appointment next week,” she said. Will shot her a look that seemed to ask if she was joking. “I think it’s time that you start coming back to our family sessions.”

Scully felt his tension and he seemed to be doing a ten count before reacting. “Why are you still going to those, anyway? Especially, after last night,” he chided.

It was now or never, she told herself.

“I had a meeting today with a man named Walter Skinner.”

“Your old FBI boss?”

“Yes,” Scully replied.

“What did he want? Or, can you tell me?” He smirked and added, “I kind of feel like the FBI is failing if you didn’t have to sign some kind of non-disclosure agreement.”

Scully couldn’t help but to chuckle. She cleared her throat before continuing, “I’m going back to the FBI… for awhile.”

“You’re giving up medicine? You love being a doctor.”

“I’m taking a sabbatical.”

William stiffened again and Scully knew exactly what was coming next.

“Is this because of that Tad O’Malley guy? Please, tell you’re going to arrest that imbecile.”

“Yes and no.”

“Which answer goes with what part?”

“Yes, I’m going to back to work because of some of the things that were brought up yesterday and no, I’m not going to arrest Mr. O’Malley.” She paused and added, “Yet.”

“I take it that means you’re also working with my father again… and, _that’s_ why you want me to go back to family counseling. You want me to be okay with it.”

“ _Are_ you okay with it?”

“Why-why- _why_ would I be okay with that?” Will snapped. “God, Mom! You’re either a masochist or just as crazy as he is if you think for a second that spending that kind of time with him is going to change anything about our situation.”

“Will-.”

“He left _us_ , Mom!” Will said, the anger in him visibly rising to the surface. “We might have been the ones to move out, but the fact is that he checked out on us a _long_ time before you made the right executive decision.” Scully watched, stunned, as Will ran a hand over his mouth before calmly saying, “Working with him again isn’t going to fix it, Mom. Honestly, I don’t think this _can_ be fixed. He won’t change. We shouldn’t have to change to accommodate a man that doesn’t give a damn us in the first place.”

“Watch your language, Will,” Scully sighed. She’d known it wouldn’t be easy; known that he’d be upset.

Instead of saying anything, he rolled his eyes and took off down the hall.

* * *

On her way to bed, Scully noticed the light was on underneath Will’s closed door. She knocked lightly. When he didn’t answer, she assumed his ear buds were in his ears and proceeded to enter the room cautiously. Scully was surprised to find him passed out atop his comforter, earbuds dutifully in his ears, and a book lying open on his chest.

Will looked so much like his father when he slept. When he was little, she’d cherished it. It wasn’t uncommon for her to check on Will before going to bed herself only to find Mulder passed out, in their own bed, in the same position as their little boy. Now, it was only painful.

Their son had been so angry. Athletics had been a good outlet for that anger, but now he didn’t seem to care about sports. Will had decided against playing basketball and, for the first time, she’d noticed his wall was void of the baseball décor that had once covered them. When she thought about it, she could recall seeing his mitt and a few other things in the box he’d brought to Mulder’s.

Will had replaced sports with fighting. He seemed to go looking for someone to hit. Knowing her son, he’d probably provoked his opponent into swinging first, too. That, Scully thought, was probably the only reason he had yet to be expelled. It wasn’t even the end of the semester and he’d been suspended twice.

With a sigh, she took the book from his chest, looking at it before placing his bookmark in the book. Will was reading The Inferno, she mused. He’d always been a bookworm. Scully liked to think it had something to do with the way she’d read to him when he was little. Giving it no further thought, she set the book on his desk.

An open notebook caught her eye. At the top of the page was written _The Triptych._ It looked like he’d handwritten the story before typing it up and turning it in. She couldn’t get out of Will’s room fast enough. She had the printed version waiting for her. Instead of going to bed, she went back to the living room to read.

 

Scully sat on the couch with a mug of tea at the ready and Will’s story in hand. She flipped through the pages before reading. He had broken the story into sections, titling each one. The first section, she noticed, was called “Into the Gravity.” It seemed to pave the way for the spiral of the main character.

It wasn’t until a tear dripped onto the page that Scully realized she was crying. It wasn’t until she got to the end and the nameless main character was standing over his body, covered in scars, that she realized that the main character was the triptych and the triptych was their family cleverly written into a singular entity. Mulder and Mr. Emerson had been right: William was a fabulous writer.

She stared at the last paragraph, one line eating away her.

_What a shameful seed we’ve sown._

Scully realized that Mulder was right. The story was informative. It told her enough to know that they had cut Will on a level she didn’t know existed and that it had nothing to do with their separation. That, she realized, had been a reprieve.

“You’re still up?” Will’s voice cut through her reverie and Scully looked up to him. Concern took over his features in an instant. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she whispered, wiping her eyes.

“Don’t lie to me,” he pressed, a slight begging to his tone. He stiffened and inquired further, “Did he do something? I’ll freaking kill him if -.”

“No, no,” she interjected. “Dad didn’t do anything. I appreciate it, but you have to stop threatening him.”

“I haven’t threatened him.”

“He told me he came by and you made him leave.”

Will swallowed. “That’s true. But, I didn’t threaten him. I may have laid out some consequences for certain actions, but I didn’t make any threats.”

Scully studied him for a moment, taking note of his defensive posture. No, she realized, he’d made promises and William Mulder did not break promises.

“Sit,” she said, patting the couch. Silently, he obeyed, setting his glass of water on the coffee table. “Talk to me, Will.”

“Um…” he said awkwardly, “I read an article about -.”

“I mean, where’s your head at?”

“Currently on a quest, trying to ascertain exactly what’s happening right now.”

Scully couldn’t help but laugh. Her boy was too clever for his own good. Before she could say anything, he caught sight of his story.

“Where’d you get that?” he asked.

“We had a parent-teacher conference with Mr. Emerson. He gave it to us.”

“Us.”

“Yeah.”

“Fox actually bothered to go, too?”

“Don’t call him by his name, Will,” she scolded, unnerved by how easy it had been for Will to refer to his father by name. If she’d seen it coming, she’d have expected some kind of hesitation.

“It’s his name,” he deadpanned.

“You know what I mean.”

“He might, biologically, be my father, but -.”

“No buts, William,” Scully said, firm in her resolve.

“I’m not going to call him ‘Dad’. He lost that right.” Scully let out a sigh, but Will continued. “But, something tells me that’s not what you wanted to talk about.” He pointed to his story and looked at her expectantly.

“It’s very well written,” she began. “What gave you the idea?”

“You want to talk literature?” He looked surprised. “That was not where I expected this conversation to go.”

“Explain the main character to me.”

“Ah. It _is_ where I expected this conversation to go,” he sighed. “Clever tactic, though.” He picked up the story and thumbed through it silently for a moment. Scully, in turn, willed herself to be patient. “What did you get out of it?”

Scully was taken back by his question. She couldn’t quite tell if he was deflecting or if they were having the conversation she hoped they were having.

“It was about a character struggling to make sense of his situation.”

Will grinned a knowing grin, but proceeded to explain, “The triptych – the main character – is actually torn by the different facets of his life: the life he wanted, the life he thought he had, and the reality of it all.” Will’s gaze met her own. “In the first canto, he’s one aspect, right? The dreamer.”

The aspect she’d taken to reading as Mulder, she mused to herself.

“The dreamer doesn’t have a clue what’s going on around him, right? He’s focused on building his empire, but he doesn’t do anything but make plans and dream dreams. He doesn’t make any kind of move or progress.”

Like Mulder had been. Like _she_ had been before she left.

“In the second canto, he becomes a cog. He’s told what to do and by whom. He does it. He tries to question it, but he’s constantly thrown back in line. So, what does he do? He gives into practicality and hopes for the best.”

Just like her, Scully noted with an impressed sigh.

“The third canto, the conflict arises and he has to figure out how to overcome it. On the one hand, he can keep dreaming. On the other, he can let go of his dreams and become what he’s supposed to be. Then, the antagonist swoops in and offers him the world.”

Scully had to admit, she didn’t quite understand that part of the story and where it fit in with their dynamic, but she’d assumed it was some aspect of William’s own psyche that he had yet to share with her.

“The fourth canto. The ante is upped. He thought he was laying low, playing it safe, keeping the darkness at bay only to find out that it had been lying in wait; a continuation of the third canto, in a way. He has a decision to make. Thus, fracturing him into two parts of the triptych.”

“And, the fifth?” she asked, not sure if she really wanted to hear it anymore.

“He lost his war, effectively breaking him into the third piece,” Will said ruefully. “Not every story has a happy ending.”

Scully nodded silently for a moment, processing Will’s explanation.

“Will,” she said finally, “you killed the main character. Why? Surely, there was hope for him.”

“Did I kill him, though?” he challenged.

“He was standing over his own scarred body. He wasn’t a ghost?”

“I guess that’s open for interpretation, but the intent was that the triptych, as an entity, died and only one part of him remained.”

“What part was that?” Scully asked quietly.

Will shrugged. “That’s up to the reader.” He rose from the couch and grabbed his water. “I’m going to back to bed.”

“Good night,” she whispered, fighting the urge to keep the discussion going. He’d clearly become uncomfortable talking about it and she couldn’t push; not when he’d been as open as he was - wittingly or not. Scully was not about to ruin that progress and set them back three steps.

“Night.”

She heard the water running in the kitchen and shortly after, she heard his door close. Scully heaved a sigh and read through the story again - this time, with his explanation in mind. Still, it read somewhat differently. She couldn’t help but to wonder if he realized he’d made a perfect parallel to their family situation or if he was projecting himself into the character. Either way, it made her anxious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SIDE NOTE: I have a hard time imagining Scully was just like "peace out, cub scouts!" to the hospital and her career in medicine when Skinner came calling. The sabbatical seemed a little more, to me, like something she'd do (and, then, obviously just end up working at the FBI again given the span of time between s10 and s11). I don't know how long sabbaticals usually last, but I don't think Scully expected to stay away from medicine as long as she ended up staying away from it. That's just my opinion, though, but I felt like it was worth noting.
> 
> Shameless self-promotion time!
> 
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> \- Feel free to follow if you want my random thoughts in 280 characters or less. Spoiler alert: I talk about the X-Files a lot.
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	24. Talk Is Cheap And I've Got Expensive Taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will assists Scully in preparation for her re-qualification for her return to the FBI.  
> Will returns to family therapy.
> 
> Takes place before Founder's Mutation.

"One more! You've got this."

Scully groaned. Why did she agree to this again? Oh, right… because it was how she was going to protect her son.

“You’re not moving, Mom…” his voice chided in that sing-song fashion that made her want to smack him. She shot a glare and Will only grinned. “Don’t get pissed at me. You asked for my help and I’m helping. Now, for questioning me, you get an extra lap during the run.”

“Don’t make me ground you,” Scully grumbled.

“Do we _want_ to make it two laps?”

Scully glared up at Will who was smirking a self-satisfied smirk. She did this to herself, she thought. She’d asked a stress athlete to train with her.

Will chuckled and took the weights from her.

He opened his mouth to say something but she cut him off, “Just give me a minute.” He looked like was fighting back some kind of smart-ass remark. “Don’t say a word.”

Will laughed. “I’m actually saving that particular comment for a little later.” He took her water bottle and said, “Alright. Let’s go run.”

Scully groaned.

She’d raised a sadist.

* * *

Will entered the house behind his mother. In retrospect, he might have pushed a little hard in her training. It wasn’t that she wasn’t in any kind of shape; they’d gone on runs together over the weekends plenty of times. But, maybe, she wasn’t ready for the other training.

He couldn’t fight back a chuckle when she flopped on the couch.

“I thought you wanted to show the youngsters what -.”

“William, I _will_ ground you,” she retorted, causing him to burst into laughter.

“I mean, it’s on their web site the there’s an age limit for prospective FBI agents. How’d you get around that?”

“William…” she warned.

“I’m gonna shower and, then, I’ll make dinner,” he relented with a laugh.

Will entered his room and shut the door behind him, exhaling deeply, as the sugarcoated smile faded from his face. In a way, helping his mother train for her re-qualification tests was fun. At the same time, knowing that she was giving up a job she loved to work with his father doing God only knew what, he hated it.

He sat on the edge of his bed at stared at the wall for a moment. If he thought for a second that it was only about the job they would be doing, he wouldn’t have a problem with it. But, he knew his parents better than that. This felt like they were trying to rekindle their relationship and _that_ was where the problem was.

He’d wanted to tell them that they were being stupid. It hadn’t worked before so, why would it work now? But, he didn’t. He’d kept his mouth shut. Truth be told, Will was angry. Most kids, he thought, would be happy at the prospect that their parents might get back together. But, he remembered what it was like. He remembered the deafening silence throughout the house. He remembered his mother taking him out for lunch when he’d just eaten or taking him to the grocery store with her when he should have been focusing on his homework or piano piece. He remembered his father picking him up from football or basketball or baseball practice and taking him out to eat only to barely say a word the entire time.

Will remembered how lonely and depressed he was during that time and didn’t want to go through any of that again. He’d been upset when they’d first separated, but in retrospect, he would attribute that to homesickness.

What exactly was it that they expected of him with this new arrangement? Approval? Affirmation? Happiness? No, he couldn’t offer any of that. He didn’t possess it. All he had to give was anger, bitterness, and resentment. They’d stripped him of everything he’d known and expected him to thrive without some sort of manual.

Will didn’t have it in him. He was too exhausted. He was exhausted from thinking about it; he was exhausted from the up and down; he was exhausted from trying to run away from it.

His plans and goals concerning his piano had become a desperate escape from all of it. He played to focus his rage, his energy; he turned to his music to calm his mind.

Tomorrow, he would make his return to family therapy. Will would see his father for the first time in months, not counting when he’d been at the house to get rid of the shit that reminded him of his misery. He also didn’t count when his father showed up at their house the day after. He’d told him to get lost then.

But, to sit in a room and talk to him – be _forced_ to talk to him. That was a little much.

With a sigh, Will grabbed some clothes and made his way to the shower. He didn’t want to think about this anymore.

* * *

Mulder watched William from the other side of the lobby. He was slouched in his chair, earbuds in his ears, leg bouncing anxiously, and eyes expertly avoiding Mulder’s gaze. Mulder, for his part, wasn’t sure how to respond. He felt like he should say something but didn’t know what.

Scully sat beside him, looking at something on her phone. Mulder felt awkward, sitting there silently. But, his family seemed to be okay with it.

Finally, they were sitting in Dr. Jake’s office and Mulder couldn’t have been more ready to be back there. Not that he ever thought he’d say that about seeing a shrink.

“Will, it’s good to see you back with us,” Dr. Jake said, sitting in his usual spot with an undeniably sincere smile on his face. “A lot has happened since you were here last.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Will retorted. “For the record, I still think this is a stupid idea and I’m only here because I have to be.”

“Noted,” Dr. Jake replied, a hint of amusement in his eyes. To Mulder, it seemed like Will didn’t notice. “So, tell about this week,” he said, returning to them as a familial unit. “How’d it go? Did you guys do anything as a family?”

Will snorted derisively before either of his parents had a chance to respond.

“What?” the shrink inquired, sounding more hopeful than Mulder thought he should.

“The short version? They’re working together again at the FBI and the only family activity we’ve had lately was this idiot,” he said, gesturing to Mulder, “trying to get us to buy into some dumbass alien conspiracy that he concocted with some dumbass YouTuber.”

“But, you _willingly_ -.”

“No, Dr. Dipshit, there was no ‘willingly’ about it. I was dropping some shit off that I had planned to leave on his porch. I saw Mom’s car and freakin’ limo. I wasn’t about to make her deal with him alone. I have no clue why the hell she was there in the first place, though.”

Well, Mulder thought, at least Will was talkative today. Maybe, they’d actually get somewhere in this session.

“Why were you going to leave the box on the porch?” Scully asked as though it was the first time she was hearing about it.

“Why do you think?” Will shot back.

“He didn’t want to see me,” Mulder sighed. Will didn’t respond.

“Will, why didn’t you want to see your dad?” Dr. Jake asked.

“I’m done being player in his game.”

“What game would that be?”

Mulder held his breath. The fire in Will’s eyes was enough to tell him that Dr. Jake’s question was pushing it. But, the psychiatrist didn’t relent.

“The one where we pretend like we might be a happy little family again,” Will fired back, “Like, he didn’t check out on us years ago. Like, we didn’t leave to protect ourselves. Like, we weren’t dying in that house. I’m tired of pretending that everything -.” He caught himself and swallowed hard. “I’m just done.”

Mulder glanced to his wife but Scully refused to meet his gaze.

“Dana?” Dr. Jake asked. “What do you think about that?”

“I understand what he’s saying. I understand that he’s angry.” She looked over at their son. Will was staring at the wall, jaw clenched tight. “I understand that he doesn’t want to go through it again.”

“What about you, Fox?”

Mulder let out a sigh. “I think… I think I messed up. I want to fix it,” he replied, facing his son and willing the teenager to understand.

William’s scoff was enough to tell Mulder that he wasn’t ready to hear what was being said to him.

“You want to know what I think?” Will said. He faced Mulder and looked him hard in the eyes. “I think he’s full of shit.” Mulder deflated. “I’m not going to humor the woe is me attitude like some injustice was done to _you_. You know as well as I do that it was never about me or Mom. It was about your sorry, narcissistic ass getting what _you_ want. We paid the price for it!”

“William,” Scully began.

“No, Mom. He needs to hear this!”

Will faced him again and Mulder braced himself.

“You want to know what it was like? I’ll tell you. I’m ten years old and I have my first baseball game of the season. I’m pitching for the first time, the thing I had to _beg_ you to work on with me that you kept putting off. I was freaking out and you promised you’d be there but you don’t show up. I get home and you’re on your computer in the same clothes you were wearing when Mom and I left the house that morning.” Will took a breath and continued. “I’m twelve and Mom’s at a conference. She asked you before she left to take care of something. You promise you’ll do it because she’s been stressed out about it. I get home from school the night before she comes back and it’s still not done. So, I spend the entire night taking care of it while you’re on some goddamn UFO message board. I’m thirteen and I have to call Grandma to pick me up from school because your sorry ass is still in bed and Mom’s working a twenty-four hour shift.”

Mulder swallowed hard, tears stinging his eyes. Had it really been like that? Why didn’t he realize it?

“I’m fourteen,” Will continued, “and am hauling ass to get into an incredible conservatory. Mom is downstairs begging you to get help. You blow her off, _again_ , telling her that you’re fine and that you have it under control. I listened to Mom cry that night. I went downstairs to sleep on the couch because I couldn’t handle hearing that, but you were there watching some show about conspiracies. I had my interview and audition the next day and I was so distracted that I played like shit. Not that I would’ve been perfect or even deserving, but I had mastered that piece. I’d worked on it for weeks. I could’ve played it in my sleep. While my posture and technique might have shit because of piano teachers not correcting me, I was off my game because I didn’t sleep the night before.”

“William, I…” Mulder tried.

“I don’t want your apologies. They’re no good to me. I held you up and for what? You were done with us a long time ago so why do you care so much _now_?” William demanded. Mulder sat there hardly able to breathe and unable to speak as William continued to scream at him. “What about _us_? We needed you! I needed my dad! Mom needed her husband! You were the one that couldn’t be bothered! You wanted to know why I’m done with you? _That’s_ why.”

Mulder glanced to Scully who, despite the tears streaming down her face, seemed just as shocked as he was.  No one said anything for several, long minutes; no one knew _what_ to say.

William losing control in therapy was nothing new. In fact, Mulder had come to expect it. His revelations had always given his father something to think about, some new angle to consider throughout the week that he could work on.

This, though? Mulder had no idea what to do with this.

It wasn’t that William was wrong. In truth, he was completely right. Mulder knew that, but there was a lot that William didn’t see during those times. There was a lot _Mulder_ hadn’t seen back then.

The difference was that he saw those things now. Mulder had seen them when Scully had finally had enough and walked out the door. He’d seen them over the year that his family was moving on, as it seemed.

“William,” Scully finally said. Will looked at her expectantly and she didn’t finish. Whatever she was thinking, even Mulder couldn’t decipher.

When had he lost touch that he couldn’t read her anymore?

* * *

Scully watched Mulder as he had his internal battle. Part of her wished she could take it away, the part that still loved him unconditionally. Yet, for as much as she wished it, William wasn’t wrong.

In a way, Mulder _had_ left them. Scully knew that he hadn’t intended to, but he shrunk into his articles, his message boards, and whatever else he did on that computer of his. For man so terrified of technology, Mulder had become dependent on it.

She wondered if, maybe, being on the X-Files again would bring him back around to them. Not that she was discounting the progress he’d made in the last year. Mulder had made incredible progress. Their communication was, in a way, better than it had ever been. They were learning about each other all over again.

The difference was that, now, they also had to rediscover who their son was.

Scully had realized that when she read William’s story, when he’d explained it to her. Mulder must have realized it, too, when he read it.

“Dana, Fox, what are you thinking?” Dr. Hadley’s voice asked, pulling her back into the room.

She and Mulder exchanged a look, neither of them knowing what to say.

“When he opens up like that, what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking about The Triptych,” Mulder said, much to her surprise.

“The Triptych?” Dr. Hadley asked.

“It’s a story that Will wrote. It’s about a man who loses everything.”

“No, it’s not,” Will deadpanned.

“In a way, it is,” Mulder countered, again to Scully’s surprise.

“It’s about a man who is so focused on himself and his vision that he forsakes everything else. Eventually, it tears him apart and the worst part of himself is all that’s left.” Mulder exhaled. “I never wanted that, William. No more than the character did.”

“Not everything is about you,” Will snarled.

“William,” Scully heard herself say, willing him to play nice. He let out a sigh as though he picked up on it.

“Dana, what are you thinking,” Dr. Hadley asked.

“I don’t know,” she confessed hardly above a whisper. “I think there’s something deeper than just what caused our separation in the first place. I think we need to find out where things fell apart if we’re going to have any chance at fixing anything.”

Will’s gaze met her own and she had to look away. She was just as guilty as Mulder was for the way Will felt. He might have been too angry at Mulder to realize that, but it didn’t take away from the truth.

“Will,” Dr. Hadley said, turning to face her son. “What do you want out of this?”

“I don’t want anything out of it.”

“Yes, you do.” Will glowered at their therapist, but Dr. Hadley continued, “You say you’re only here because you have to be. I can understand that you come here because your mother makes you. I understand that you’re angry with Fox. You have every right to be.”

“If you have a point, make it,” Will growled.

“While you were away, your parents were still here – even when it turned ugly. They were here because they care about you and they care about each other. You, on the other hand, keep everything bottled and buried until you get here and you explode.” He paused. “Why do you think it sets you off when you’re in this setting?”

“I hate that they make excuses for each other,” he confessed, gutting Scully with his icy tone as he addressed Dr. Hadley. “They’ve done it my entire life. Instead of facing up to the issues at hand, they make excuses.” Will heaved a sigh before continuing. “I have no doubt that he would take a bullet for us. Ironically, though, we’re the B-Team, the contingency. I won’t ever doubt that, either.”

“Why do you feel like the B-Team?”

“Everything else has always taken precedent. I don’t really remember a time where he did hole up in his office looking for the fucking Loch Ness monster. Somewhere along the way, he forgot about us until he came out of that office and realized the house was empty.”

“Did you ever consider that, maybe, he was dealing with things he couldn’t talk about?”

Interesting tactic, Scully mused. Mulder shifted uncomfortably and it made Scully wonder if Dr. Hadley’s question had struck a chord.

“That’s the story of his life. There’s always some conspiracy that requires his full attention.”

“William, you’re _never_ my B-Team,” Mulder replied in a desperate tone that threatened to shatter Scully. She hadn’t heard that tone from him in years. “There are a lot of things that I know that you don’t. I might have lost sight of important things for a while and I have spent every day of the last year finding out where. That doesn’t mean that I don’t love you or Mom or that you’re not important to me.”

“For how long, Dad?” Will asked. “Until the next Bigfoot sighting?”

Mulder snorted in amusement. “It’s who I am, kid.”

“It’s not who you are that I can’t handle,” Will said solemnly. “It’s being _son_ of who you are.”

“What do you mean?”

“It means that I’m not you. I don’t believe in anything you believe in. I don’t care about the things you care about. I’m not Mom, either. I won’t make excuses for you. I won’t humor you. That does no one any good.”

When their silence lasted long enough to tell them that neither one of her boys were going to continue, Dr. Hadley spoke up, “I have an assignment for you, Will.”

“I’m not doing homework for you. You’ve got me doing enough.”

“This will benefit all of you.” Will let out an exasperated sigh, but Dr. Hadley continued, “I want you to spend one day with Fox.”

“No.”

“One day. You can stay longer if it works for all of you but spend one day together.”

“No.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Scully blurted. Will shot a look to her that accused her of treason. “You have to get a new suit for your recital, anyway.” She faced Mulder. “You should take him.”

Will glowered in their direction and Mulder shot him an anxious look. It was almost like Mulder was silently seeking the approval of their fifteen-year-old.

“I don’t want to force him to do anything he isn’t ready to do,” he said cautiously.

“Will, do you remember what we talked about in our one-on-one session last week? About the letters?”

“Unfortunately.”

“This is that next step, that test in vocalization.”

“You’re a dick, you know that?”

Dr. Hadley chuckled. “I’ve been told that, yes.”

Will growled and rubbed his hands over his face. “Fine. One day. No more.”


	25. It's Lonely At The Top... Or, So I've Heard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Mulder have a conversation.
> 
> Pre- "Founder's Mutation"

Mulder’s heart raced as he waited for Will to arrive. He had twenty-four hours to change his son’s mind about him. Or, at the very least, get things going in that direction; to plant the proverbial seed.

He had a plan. Or, part of one. All that was set in stone was that Will would sleep at his house that night and that, the following day, Mulder would take him to get his new suit for his recital. He had one chance not to screw this up.

Fox Mulder was panicking.

* * *

 

Scully glanced to Will as he stared out the window. To say that he wasn’t thrilled about the next twenty-four hours would be an understatement. His anxiety was sky high. It was making _her_ nauseous. She had no idea how he was handling it.

“It’ll be okay, William,” Scully said softly. “It’s only one day.”

“A lot can happen in a day,” he replied.

“If you really don’t want to do this, you can call me. I’ll come get you -.”

“No,” Will sighed, to his mother’s surprise. “I agreed to this. I have to do it.”

Scully couldn’t deny that she was proud of him for honoring a commitment that she knew he desperately didn’t want to honor. But, this was his father; he would be fine.

“I’ll give them credit for one thing, though,” Will continued and Scully glanced at him again. He smirked as he said, “They picked a weekend where I need to focus on my recital piece and I have piano at his house.”

Scully frowned. Of course, he’d find a way to avoid the commitment while keeping it. If there was one thing both of her boys seemed to excel at, it was finding loopholes.

* * *

 

Mulder tensed when he heard Scully’s vehicle pull up to the house, anxiety pulsing through him. This was it, he told himself. For the next twenty-four hours, he would have his son home. It had been far too long. While he would have preferred it to be of Will’s own volition, he hadn’t spent time with his son in weeks. Not like he’d so desperately wanted to spend time with the boy.

Before he knew it, the door opened and Scully entered the house followed by a reluctant Will. Mulder’s heart thudded in his chest.

“Hey,” Mulder greeted, trying not to sound overly excited; that, he knew, would spook the teenager.

Will swallowed and muttered something that, at least, _sounded_ like a greeting. He wondered if his wife had had a talk with their son prior to arriving. Mulder certainly wouldn’t have put it past her.

“Hey,” Scully greeted in return.

They watched as Will silently made his way upstairs. Mulder faced his wife. “If he’s not ready -.”

Scully shook her head, cutting him off. “He needs this, Mulder. You both do.” There was a confidence in her voice that Mulder hadn’t heard in quite awhile. He had to fight back the urge to kiss her right there. Not that Will wouldn’t murder him if he tried.

No, Mulder reminded himself, he needed to take this slow.

“You want to stay for dinner?” he asked. “There’s plenty.”

Scully hesitated, as though mulling it over, before agreeing. Mulder stifled a grin as he nodded.

He looked up toward the stairs, wondering if Will would come back downstairs at all in the next twenty-four hours.

“Don’t push him, Mulder,” Scully said softly. “He’ll come around.”

“Will he?” Mulder countered with a sigh. “You forget, our boy has an uncanny ability to hold a grudge. Remember the squirrel that stole his French fry in the park?”

Scully rolled her eyes. “Mulder, he was four.”

“And he didn’t let it go until he was ten. At this rate, the minimum age he’ll forgive me is twenty-one.” He sighed again and added, “That’s _if_ I get incredibly lucky.”

* * *

 

Will watched from the porch as his mother drove away, a pit forming in his stomach. He knew that all he had to do was call her and she would turn around and take him home; but, he couldn’t do that to her. He could tough it out for the next… twenty-two hours. With a sigh, Will turned to go back in the house.

He could do this.

When he got in the house, his father was staring at him. Will found it slightly unnerving. He looked like he wanted to say something. Will waited for a moment before letting out an agitated breath.

“What?” he demanded.

“I just… want to watch a movie or something?”

“Not particularly.”

His father nodded. Will checked his watch. It was only seven.

Will let out a sigh. He’d promised his mother that he would, at the very least, _attempt_ to play nice.

“I have to work on my piano piece,” he said quietly. “I’m still having a hard time with the middle.”

His father nodded absently. Will half-expected him to put up some kind of fight, given the reason he was staying with him in the first place. To his surprise, however, there was no fight of any kind.

“Okay,” his father conceded.

Will felt his eyes narrow in suspicion. “That’s it?”

“Did… did you want there to be more?”

“No,” he replied flatly. “I’m going upstairs.”

With that, he disappeared from the living room.

* * *

 

Mulder listened from the couch as Will practiced his piano. Occasionally, he’d hear a sudden stop followed by a frustrated “damn it!” when Will got to a part of the piece that he couldn’t quite get right.

He was loving it, though. Not that his son was having an issue with that particular piece of music, but that the house was filled with the music in the first place. It had been far too long, Mulder thought, since he’d heard Will play.

Shamefully, he admitted that he’d forgotten what it sounded like. Not the piano itself – anyone could buy a CD of classical piano music, but what it sounded like coming from his son’s hands. It felt right, even with William as angry with him as he was. Having him home, practicing upstairs – even messing up on occasion – felt right.

The only thing missing, aside from Scully reading some article at the other end of the couch or cuddled against him, was his family’s _want_ to be home. Or, maybe, they _did_ want to be home and Mulder had made it impossible.

Either way, it was something he was still fighting to deserve. Right now, Scully would occasionally look at him the way his mother had looked at his father. And, Will would look at him with the same disgust that he’d harbored toward his father.

Fuck.

In a way, he’d become his father.

Mulder had never meant to; in fact, it was something that he actively tried to avoid for all of his adult life. He’d never wanted his wife to look at him the way his mother had looked at his father; nor did he ever want his child to feel from him what he’d felt from his father.

The fact was, he realized, that William did.

It suddenly made complete sense.

He didn’t know how to fix it, but at least now he had a starting point.

* * *

 

Will stared out across the property as he only half-listened to the music in his ears. His dad was passed out on the couch and Will wondered if he’d slept in his own room at all since his mother had moved out. He understood it at first, knew that his father couldn’t take the emotional whatever of sleeping in their bed alone. It had been a year, though.

A year.

He hadn’t realized how much time had passed. God, had it flown by.

Will had gone through one hell of a year. His parents had separated. He’d gotten accepted into the conservatory and had been hauling ass when it came to his instrument. He’d gotten a new house and switched schools, gotten kicked off the football team and had decided to stop playing sports altogether. He’d started therapy.

It wasn’t that Will hadn’t realized any of this. When he thought about the differences in his life, his mind always wandered in the vicinity of the events that had led to it. Therapy had a way of doing that to a person, he assumed; forcing one to face the things one didn’t particularly want to see.

That’s what had happened to him.

Pair the emotional toll that therapy took on him with the apocalyptic nightmares he’d been facing every time he shut his eyes…

Will was surprised that he hadn’t actually killed anyone.

Other strange things had been happening over the last couple of years, as well; things he didn’t dare say aloud.

The incident at camp.

The incident with his snow globes.

The handful of times he wished that someone wouldn’t see him and they didn’t – even when they should have.

It was absolutely terrifying. Music was the only thing he had to take his mind off of it, the only avenue to the void where he could quiet his mind.

Will opened his eyes when he felt a presence around him, jumping when he noticed his father was sitting next to him.

“Jesus fuck!” Will gasped.

“Sorry,” his father muttered.

“A warning would’ve been nice…”

They sat in silence for a moment, before his father spoke up again, “It’s cold out here.”

“It’s December,” Will deadpanned, realizing that he hadn’t noticed the cold until it was pointed out to him. The cold never really bothered him like it did most people. His father only chuckled in response.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Thinkin’,” Will confessed.

“About what?”

“Things…”

His father seemed to take the hint. They sat in silence for a long while, Will resigned to the fact that he wasn’t going to be able to reach the void with his father sitting beside him. Instead, he focused on the sound of the breeze.

“I get it you know,” his father said quietly.

Will sighed. “Get what?”

“Why you’re so angry with me.”

Will so did not want to be having that conversation. Not when he was already feeling on-edge. The last thing he needed was to accidentally commit patricide.

“Because I told you in therapy?” Will quipped.

His father snorted in amusement. “No. Although, you were pretty clear.” Will glanced to him silently, not sure how to respond. Mulder’s expressed sobered and he quietly added, “I never wanted to be like my father, either.”

Trepidation replaced anything else that Will was feeling and he cautiously asked, “What are you talking about?”

His father let out a sigh. “I didn’t have a good relationship with my father.” He paused as though realizing something and said, “have I ever told you about my sister?”

Will shrugged. “Just that she was kidnapped and died.”

“Well, after Samantha was taken, things were different. My dad… I never knew where I stood with him. Sometimes, it seemed like he hated me. Other times, it seemed like he was just indifferent toward me.” Will eyed his father carefully. “I was never good enough.” His father let out another sigh. “I always told myself that I didn’t want kids –.”

“Message received,” Will scoffed. The beast inside of him seemed to lift its head, waking but ready to strike if needed.

“Would you let me finish?” his father retorted with a frown. Will clenched his jaw, absently grinding his teeth. “I told myself that I never wanted kids because I never wanted anyone to feel from me like I felt from my father. But, one day, Mom got pregnant. With you.”

“I’m not sure that I’m seeing your point…”

“I wanted more for us, William; more than what I had with my father. I wanted to do the things with you that he never did with me. When you were born, I couldn’t wait to take you to your first Yankees game or your first Knicks game. I couldn’t wait until you were old enough and we could make a big event out of watching the World Series.”

“We’ve done all that,” Will retorted.

“Yeah, we have.” There was a moment of silence before his father continued. “Somewhere along the way, something happened and I’m not sure what. I thought everything was fine but then, Mom left and took you with her. I realized that it wasn’t fine.

Will let out a sigh, trying to think of any excuse to go back up to his room and not talk about this. He didn’t want to be there in the first place, he silently reminded himself.

“Will, the things you bring up in therapy… I owe you an apology.” Will opened his mouth to protest, but his father continued anyway. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I need to say it. I’m sorry.”

A few minutes passed before either of them spoke up again. Removing his earbuds from his ears, Will said, “You can say all these things, but the reality is that you stopped caring a long time ago so, I don’t know why I should believe you.”

“I never stopped caring, William,” his father countered with a deadly seriousness that Will hadn’t experienced from him before. It wasn’t unkind, but certainly somewhat rueful. “I never will. Whether you like it or not, you’re my son. I just… I forgot how to let you know that I care.”

Will swallowed, fighting back the beast as it tried to claw its way out. He didn’t need that right now. Finally, he said, “It wasn’t about missing baseball games or piano lessons. You acted like we didn’t even exist. It was me and Mom… and you. You chose, every single day, to sit at your damn computer looking for doomsday this and conspiracy that.” Will was aware of the helplessness in his voice but, for whatever reason, the beast had sunk back down into its hiding place and left only the pain. “That night with the alien DNA guy, you got excited. I don’t remember seeing you like that, but Mom was terrified of it. You didn’t even notice.”

“Will—.”

“You had your turn; now, it’s mine,” he bit back. Will swallowed to keep from losing it, forced himself to adhere to the promise he'd made to his mother. “You know what I remember most about living here… before we left?” His dad shook his head. “The silence. I remember the silence more than anything else.” Will let out a sigh. “You say you want me to trust you again, but I have no reason to do that. I remember how trapped we were; I remember going to bed with ear buds in my ears because I couldn’t stomach the possibility that I might fall asleep to Mom crying... _again._  As sick as it sounds, I _wanted_ to hear you guys fight because, at least, something was happening and, for the duration of the screaming match, at least you were talking.” Will hesitated before adding, “We needed you to fight for _us_. Instead, we were your contingency plan. Your B-Team.”

“William, you and Mom are all that matter me. You were _never_ my B-Team. I don’t know how to prove that to you. But, that doesn’t mean that I’m not going to try.”

“Then, why did you leave us? God, Dad, you left us all over again _every single day_.”

“I don’t know how to explain it.” There was a desperation to his father’s confession that caught Will off-guard. “All I know is that it snuck up on me. I don’t know how or why or what it was.”

“Clinical depression, Dad," Will deadpanned. "Mom told you that a million times. Every time she asked you to get help.”

“It’s different when it’s you and when you’re watching someone you care about in that state,” his dad said in a careful tone. Will knew that he was referring to him.

“I take the pills,” Will confessed. “They help with my anxiety. It doesn’t make it go away completely, but it makes it bearable. I’m in a better mood, usually, too.”

“Mom told me,” his dad replied softly. Will nodded. “I’m glad you take them; I’m glad they help.”

Will didn’t respond. He didn’t know how. Part of him wanted to scream at his father for all the things he’d put them through, the things that were flashing through his mind that he should have brought up earlier. The other part of him was just exhausted. Emotions always took their toll on him. Yet, he didn’t want to sleep. Sleeping meant nightmares.

Finally, his father said, “Let’s go inside. It’s too cold.”

Will only nodded his concession and followed his father into the house. It was too late to call his mother for an escape. Not that she wouldn’t come get him, but that he’d feel bad for waking her up and making her drive all the way there only to turn around go back.

He didn’t want to get up in the morning. Will didn’t want to go shopping with his father. Although, he thought, the sooner the time came, the sooner he could go home.

Dr. Jake was going to have a field day with the fact that they actually talked about some stuff and both of them came out of the conversation alive. He’d ask how they felt about the conversation. To be honest, Will didn’t know how he felt. Part of him didn’t believe a word his father had said. He’d said enough words over the last year with very little action to back them up. At the same time, he knew sincerity when he saw it in someone’s eyes. And, he’d certainly seen it in his father’s.

God, all of this was making him dizzy.


	26. The Heavy-Hearted Work of a Staggering Genius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder and Will spend the day together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place the weekend after the last chapter. Pre- "Founder's Mutation"

Scully leaned back in her chair. She’d been working on the same thing for the last three hours and had gotten nowhere; a complete lack of focus barring her at every turn. She hadn’t heard from either of the Mulder boys in her life and it was making her more anxious than she cared to admit.

There were only two possible scenarios for the silence: 1) Things were going remarkably well, all was forgiven, and her boys were back in each other’s good graces; or, 2) Will had murdered his father and was currently on the run, leaving no way to contact him.

In all reality, the latter was the most likely scenario.

Scully picked up her phone, checking it again for a text message or missed call. She had neither. Maybe, she should call them.

She scolded herself for the thought and placed the phone back on her desk. If, on the off-chance, the first scenario was happening, she was not going to interrupt it and possibly ruin whatever was happening. They’d worked too hard, come too far in their familial relationships for her to risk it.

With a sigh, she turned her attention back to the computer monitor in front of her.

The rest of this day was going to be long.

* * *

 

Mulder knocked on Will’s door, hoping the teenager was in a decent enough mood to eat before they headed into the city in their attempt to find him a suit for his recital.

“Yeah?” Will called from the other side of the door.

The response was promising enough that Mulder felt comfortable entering the bedroom. He found Will sitting at his desk, controller in his hand, playing a video game.

“Hey, are you – is that Donald Duck?” Mulder asked when Donald Duck walked across the screen. He quickly realized that there were a few Disney characters on the screen fighting little monsters. It was, quite possibly, the last thing that Mulder had expected to see when he’d heard the sounds of virtual battle from his spot in the hallway.

“Yes,” Will said, nonchalant in his response. When he was silent for too long, his son explained, “It’s Kingdom Hearts.”

“Um…”

“Basically, if Disney and Final Fantasy had a lovechild, it would be this game.” The patience in Will’s voice was quickly deteriorating, but he had yet to look at his father.

“I have… no idea what that means,” Mulder finally said.

“You’re FBI, right? Figure it out.”

Mulder racked his brain for some way to salvage the situation, blurting out, “Hungry?”

Will paused the game and spun around in his chair with a look on his face that Mulder couldn’t quite decipher.

“I’m starving,” Will replied. “I didn’t eat breakfast.”

“Don’t you have to eat with your medicine?”

“Yes.” Mulder must have been silent for too long, again, because Will rolled his eyes. “You don’t have food.”

“I have plenty of food.”

“You have pop tarts and frozen dinners,” Will retorted in a tone that Mulder didn’t recognize. He thought Will sounded slightly amused, but the look on his face didn’t match the tone.

“So?”

“It’s _pop tarts_ and _frozen dinners_." Mulder still wasn't quite getting it and Will noticed, rolling his eyes in that way he'd inherited from his mother. " For God's sake. That’s not food. That’s junk masquerading as food.”

Mulder frowned. Will smirked.

“Alright,” Mulder finally said when he realized that Will was in a better mood than he thought, “get your jacket. We’ll get something to eat before we go look for a suit.”

“Good answer.” Will paused and then added with a smirk, “and, you need groceries.”

* * *

 

Will moved slowly through his father’s go-to shop. Every so often his father would show a suit to him and Will would only shrug. Truth be told, he didn’t know much about – nor care much about – suits.

He was a fashionable person, sure. His mother had engrained a sense of fashion into him; more so since they’d been living without his father. Despite the ironic t-shirts he ordered off the internet every now and again, Varvatos was his go-to when it came to his clothing. He couldn’t help himself.

“What about this one?” His father asked, holding up a grey suit. He smiled as he added, “Armani.”

“These jeans are Armani,” Will replied flippantly. “And, I’m not wearing anything that looks like it existed before I was born.”

His father frowned and hung it back on the rack.

“Oh! Look at this!” Will glanced over to see his father holding up a tie. It was a horrible piece of fabric, uglier than any tie Will Mulder had ever seen in his life. “What do you think?”

“I am not buying a tie with you,” Will replied slowly.

“Why not?”

“Look at it!”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Are you kidding me? It’s garish!”

His father put it back, grumbling something Will couldn’t make out.

It took them way longer than it should have before Will finally found a suit that he liked, that fit properly – so he wouldn’t have to deal with a tailor, despite his father’s insistence that he had a guy who could do it, and a suit that was comfortable. All that was left was his tie and he was not about to let his father have any say in that matter. He could go with his mom sometime during the week or even order one if he had to.

“So,” his father said, reservation present in his voice. “What do you want to do next?”

Will fought the urge to tell him that he could just drop him off at home now that the mission was completed, but he technically had four more hours to spend with his father if he was going to live up to his end of the deal. William Mulder was a lot of things but he was _not_ a deal or promise breaker.

No matter how badly he’d wanted to be in this case.

If he was being honest with himself, the time he’d spent with his father hadn’t been nearly as bad as he’d expected. Will had only wanted to throat-punch him a handful of times and only wanted to push him in front of rush hour traffic once. He found it surprising.

“I don’t care,” he replied, trying hard not to sound like an asshole. Really, he just wanted to practice for his recital; he needed to.

“We can go to the batting cages,” Mulder suggested.

“I, um…” Will began, wondering if he’d not gotten the memo. “I don’t play sports anymore.” It felt awkward to say, not that it should have. It wasn’t exactly a secret. Although, the fact that he was no longer interested in playing sports might be somewhat related to his issues with his father.

“Oh…”

Will couldn’t help but to feel slightly bad about his father’s disappointment. He was trying, even Will could acknowledge that – not that he wanted to. He heaved a sigh.

“Sure,” he conceded. It might feel good, he told himself. He hadn’t hit anything in awhile.

His father’s face lit up. “Okay, then!”

* * *

 

Mulder watched as William hit one ball after another. Not a single strike to be had by the boy. He’d forgotten how good his son was at baseball.

He wanted to ask why the teenager had quit playing, but he didn’t. He wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know the answer. Mulder knew better than that it was to focus on his music, which is exactly what he would have expected Will to say.

Maybe, he’d ask Scully. Would she even know?

“Nice!” Mulder praised as Will hit another ball. “That would easily have been a homer.”

Will didn’t say anything as the machine wound down. He removed the batting helmet and stepped out of the cage, offering the bat to his father. Mulder took the bat but checked his watch before making any kind of move. His time was up.

“I guess, we’d better get back to the house,” he replied. “Mom will be there to pick you up soon.”

“Yeah,” Will agreed awkwardly. Mulder hesitated. It seemed like Will wanted to say something else, but he didn’t.

The drive back to the house was silent and uneventful, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

“So,” Mulder said, pulling onto the property. “You don’t have to leave. If you don’t want to.”

He watched Will carefully. The boy wouldn’t meet his gaze. Will shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t ready, Mulder realized. He was pushing. He was pushing and Will didn’t respond well to pushing. He never had.

Mulder felt like an idiot.

“Um… I need to focus the rest of the weekend.”

Mulder was surprised by the awkward response. He’d expected Will to tell him that he’d made a commitment, honored it, and was done. He’d expected Will to tell him to go to hell.

“Right,” Mulder said just as awkwardly as Will had responded.

“But,” Will continued, to his father’s surprise. “Maybe, after the recital… I could… stay a night or something.”

“Yeah! That’d-that’d be great!”

Will tensed at his excited response and Mulder deflated.

“Dad, don’t misunderstand me,” Will replied with a caution in his voice. “This isn’t forgiveness. It isn’t trust. It’s not… I just don’t want you to think that it’s something more than it really is.”

Mulder could only nod, barely able to process his son’s disclaimer at the prospect of him _willingly_ spending a night sometime in the near future.

Whatever it was, Mulder would take it. That much was for certain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for shameless self-promotion!
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	27. Why Six Is Afraid of Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Founder's Mutation, part one.

Well, at least the case was a local one. Their first _real_ case back on the X-Files, back in the FBI and it was local. Part of Scully was surprised by this. She’d assumed that her husband would immediately revert back to his plane-hopping ways and have them across the country as soon as he was able.

But, he didn’t.

Scully wondered how much of that was Mulder and how much of it was Skinner. Either way, she’d be able to pick Will up from his piano lesson.

Hopefully.

Hopefully, she hadn’t just jinxed herself.

She entered the room, attempting to ignore the stares being shot her way by the reluctantly cooperative staff. Mulder was leaning over a body.

Yeah… this wasn’t a mistake at all.

“What do you make of this, Scully?” he asked.

“Well, it seems that Dr. Sanjay had a psychotic break and committed suicide,” she retorted. He shot her a look and she continued, “Note the letter opener sticking out of his head.”

“Noted,” he grumbled.

“All the witnesses I spoke to have consistent accounts.”

Mulder rose from his spot, declaring, “I mean the room.” Scully glanced around briefly. “He chose the most secure place in the building to kill himself. He was trying to access something.” He looked ahead, but her eyes never left him. She didn’t exactly like the tone of voice she was hearing. He was about to get excited and do something stupid.

She could feel it.

“These are isolated servers,” he pressed on, oblivious to her concern. “so, the only way to get to the data is through this terminal… which is also protected.”

“Is that why we’re here?” She asked, ready to slap him if need be. “You’re interested in the server?” He ignored her question and she pressed, “What are you looking for, Mulder?”

Before he could respond, a rather overzealous security member was taking the terminal from Mulder and giving them lip. Not that they didn’t dish it back, they were getting too old to deal with bullshit of this kind, Scully thought.

This was not going to end well.

Scully knew it. She knew it by the way Mulder had asked to speak to Dr. Goldman. She knew it by the way he was so keen to leave the room, not so much as putting up a fight. She knew it by the way he was so anxious to meet this “Gupta” person.

All Scully wanted to do was get home to their son.

There was something about working on the X-Files again that made her anxious when he was out of her sight – even if he was just at school. She could never forget the threats to him when he was a baby, but there was something about being back that made all of those threats seem relevant again.

While Mulder was off meeting with Gupta, against her better judgement, Scully found herself performing an autopsy. It had been awhile since she’d done an autopsy. In this capacity, anyway.

Something caught her eye, piquing her interest. Writing on the palm of Dr. Sanjay’s hand.

 _Founder's mutation_.

Yep. Coming back was definitely a mistake.

With a sigh, she pulled out her phone and made the call, knowing damn well that she was going to regret it.

* * *

 

“Founder’s Mutation,” Mulder read aloud.

“The Founder is what they called Dr. Goldman at Nugenics.” She gave him that look of accusation. He hadn’t seen that specific one since they’d left the FBI the first time. “Is that why you wanted to talk to him?”

Part of him was giddy at the thought that they could possibly be doing this again. Working with her had been one of his favorite things about his job long before they’d gotten together in a romantic capacity. Her ability to challenge him at every turn, in a way, made it feel like a game.

Which look could he get if he did _this_?

It was probably a sick game, he told himself, but it was always one of his favorites. He’d wondered on occasion if that game was one of the things that made him fall in love with her. It had certainly helped him to learn what made her tick. Although, he supposed, he could have just asked.

But, where was the fun in that?

“I don’t think that’s the mutation Sanjay was referring to,” he settled on saying. “Did you find anything else on the autopsy?”

“Well, there were no abnormalities in Dr. Sanjay’s brain,” she replied using her science voice. Another favorite game of his: guess Scully’s voices. “The opener destroyed the acoustic nerve and then went into the cerebral cortex.”

* * *

 

Will looked stunned by the fact that his father was sitting in the passenger’s seat of the SUV. In retrospect, she probably could have given him a warning. If she’d thought about it, she would have.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, as he tossed his backpack in the vehicle and climbed in himself.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Scully replied. She glanced in the rearview mirror. He had a disbelieving eyebrow arched, as though he were waiting for her to look at him. “Really, Will. Everything’s fine.”

“Dad’s in my seat.”

“Dad can also hear you,” Mulder retorted.

“Good to know you’re not going deaf in your old age,” Will fired back. Scully couldn’t help but to smirk. At least, Will wasn’t being malicious. His lesson must have gone well.

“Are you hungry?” Scully interjected before their verbal sparring could continue.

“You always ask me if I’m hungry when you don’t know what else to say. You realize that, right?”

“Well… are you?” she asked.

“I mean, that depends on what kind of intervention we’re having this time…” There was a caution to his tone.

“You’re not in trouble, Will,” Mulder said. “We have something that we have to do for a case and figured we’d grab dinner before.”

“Ah,” Will replied, sounding as though he wasn’t quite sure whether or not to believe them. “Well… in that case…” he paused, thinking. “Actually, I could go for a burger.”

“That’s my boy,” she heard Mulder mutter. William didn’t seem to notice.

* * *

 

Breaking and entering.

They were barely back in the FBI and they were already breaking and entering. Silently, they made their way through the apartment. Scully had to give Dr. Sanjay credit: it was a nice place.

Then, she saw it: a wall full of pictures of the children.

After whispering a curse, she called, “Mulder, I found something.”

It didn’t take him nearly as long to get to her as she’d expected. He must have been closer by than she realized. Mulder looked at the wall and said, “His kids.”

“Yeah.”

“Sanjay was afraid they were dying. These kids, they look so young. None of them look older than ten.” He paused for a split second and added, “Look at the backgrounds.”

“It’s a clinical setting,” she confirmed, having noticed it long before he did. “It looks like it might be a hospital.”

The sound of car doors shutting got her attention and she noticed the red and blue lights flashing outside the window.

“The police are coming up,” Scully stated, knowing damn well this had been a bad idea from the start. “We must have triggered a silent alarm.”

“Alright, look around. He’s bound to have kept some information on them somewhere.”

Scully wanted to tell him to fuck right off. She wanted to tell him that he was going to get them fired before they had a chance to dig in to whatever was going on from which their son needed protection – the very thing that brought them back in the first place.

But, she didn’t. Instead, she perused as quickly as she could.

A banging noise got her attention and she found her husband doubled over.

“Mulder?” Concern shot through her and she raced over to him; whatever they’d been looking for be damned. When she got to him he was clutching his head, his face bright red. “Mulder, are you okay?” He didn’t respond and she heard the police in his silence. “They’re coming.” Again, his only response was one of pain. “Mulder.”

The police officer announced his presence and Scully reluctantly left her husband to go deal with him. At least, she thought, they had badges. Hopefully, this officer wouldn’t ask too many questions.

* * *

 

Scully’s first instinct was to take Mulder to the hospital, have him checked out. Naturally, he refused. Had they not been separated, she would’ve driven him there and let him protest the entire time. She would have reminded him that he needed to take better care of himself because they have a son who, despite being in a rocky place with his father, still needed him. She would’ve insisted that if he wasn’t going to do it for himself, he needed to do it for William.

But, she didn’t.

Oh, she certainly tried to talk him into it. When Mulder didn’t relent, Scully did and she took him home.

She let out a sigh when she entered her house.

“I said ten o’clock, young lady!” William said sarcastically from the couch, causing her to jump. Concern replaced his smirk and he said, “What the hell happened?”

“Nothing,” she replied with a sigh. “I’m fine.” He arched an eyebrow. “Really.”

“Sit down,” he said, pointing to the couch. With a sigh, she found herself obeying her fifteen-year-old son. They sat in silence for a moment before Will finally said, “I don’t know if this is a good idea, Mom.”

“What?” she asked carefully.

“The FBI.”

William’s slightly overbearing concern was heartwarming, Scully thought. She studied him for a second, noting that his concerned face was very similar to Mulder’s.

“I’m just tired, Will,” she said, attempting to ease his apprehension.

“I’ve seen you tired,” he replied firmly. “I’ve seen you come home after working forty-eight hours. This is different. I don’t like this, Mom.” He swallowed. “I think you should go back to medicine.”

“I can’t do that right now, Will. The FBI needs my help.”

William stiffened. Scully braced herself.

“You mean _Dad_ needs your help,” he said in a tone laced with accusation.

“I know this is difficult for you to understand, but -.”

“I don’t want to understand, Mom,” he replied, his calm collectedness completely unexpected. “I know you can’t tell me things about your job, but just… be careful.”

Scully thought that she might cry, completely touched by his concern for her safety.

“I will,” she said, touching his worried face.

“Good,” he said firmly. Then, he smirked and added, “Because I don’t want to be forced to live with Dad.”

Despite fighting it, Scully chuckled. She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Go to bed.”

“You, too.”

He replied rising from his spot with a grin and heading toward his bedroom.

* * *

 

Will shut the door quietly behind him and made his way to his desk. He wasn’t entirely sure how long he’d been reading his latest novel when he heard his mother’s door shut. He waited a while before sneaking to her room and cracking the door. When he was convinced that she was sound asleep, he went back to his room, his phone in his hand. He stared at it for a moment before texting his father.

_Still up?_

He paced back and forth for a couple of minutes before his phone buzzed in his hand.

_Yeah. Everything okay?_

Will’s jaw clenched.

No, everything was not okay. Instead of saying that, however, he texted back:

_I’m coming over._

He pulled his jacket on over his t-shirt and climbed out his window.

* * *

 

Will tipped the Uber driver and proceeded to walk the journey from the road to the house. About halfway through his trek, he realized that he had no idea how he was going to get back home.

“Will?” his father said, as he approached the house. “What’s going on?”

“We gotta talk,” he replied firmly.

“How did you get here? You didn’t _walk_ , did you?”

“Don’t be stupid. I called an Uber, but you’ll have to drive me home. I didn’t think this all the way through.”

His father studied him for a moment before gesturing to the house.

“Let’s go inside. It’s cold out here.”

Will nodded and followed his father in the house.  


	28. Seven Ate Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Founder's Mutation, part two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part two of three

Mulder was distracted. He knew that. She was talking and he wasn’t exactly listening. Not that what she had to say wasn’t interesting; his mind kept replaying the late-night conversation he’d had with Will.

When Will had texted him to say that he was coming over, Mulder had been in a near state of panic. He thought he’d fucked up again somehow and his son was coming over to rip him a new one… or, to make good on his promise to murder him. He’d assumed that, if Will was coming to “talk” to him, he was pissed.

That wasn’t the case, to Mulder’s surprise. Will showed up at his house, scared. He was scared for his mother and Mulder couldn’t fault him for that. Will had grilled him with questions about what they were doing. He’d gotten frustrated when Mulder couldn’t give him specifics. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to blurt every detail of what they’d been doing – Will was interested enough to be talking to him about it and, if he was being honest, as terrified as the boy seemed to be, Mulder wanted to alleviate some of that fear.

To his surprise, William seemed to understand that Mulder couldn’t tell him much. He’d mentioned how Scully looked when she got home. Will was protective and Mulder would always be proud of him for that.

“Mulder!”

He wasn’t sure if it was the tone of her voice or the fact that she said his name so loudly that got his attention.

“Huh?”

Scully frowned. “That was Skinner. He wants to see us. Now.”

Mulder only nodded and rose from his chair.

“Hey,” Scully said softly, grabbing his forearm so that he’d face her. “Are you okay?”

Part of him wondered if she knew that their fifteen-year-old son had snuck out in the middle of the night to inquire about their goings on last night and to give him a firm lecture on his duty as a husband – despite the fact that they were still separated – to keep his wife safe. Although, he rationalized, if she knew, she certainly wouldn’t be this cavalier about it.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

He didn’t want to tell her. Both he and his son would be dead men, most likely.

“Let’s just deal with Skinner,” he replied.

And, deal with Skinner they did. And some DoD asshole, too.

“Let me remind you, Agents Mulder and Scully, dissemination of any classified material either internally or publicly, will be dealt with harshly.”

Channeling his son, Mulder smirked and said, “I’m familiar with Edward Snowden.”

“I assume you made copies,” Skinner said in a knowing tone. It was his principal voice.

“I managed some top sheets before the DoD took over,” Mulder confessed. “I think those children are failed experiments.”

“So, you suspect the Department of Defense is experimenting with genetic modification on humans?”

Mulder wanted to slap his boss. Of course, that’s what he was suggesting. Did the man forget who he was dealing with after fifteen years? Was Mulder really that forgettable?

Before he could retort, Skinner faced Scully, “What do you think?”

“I think there are many troubling details to this case,” Scully replied cautiously, “and, um…” She paused long enough to face him. That look sent a jolt straight to his heart. “If Agent Mulder has nothing more to add --.”

“I don’t,” he interjected.

“Then, I think we need time to prove his theory.”

Mulder mostly tuned out Skinner’s response, realizing that he and Scully were about to have some fun. They were back. Agents Mulder and Scully. Mr. and Mrs. Spooky. Husband and wife, this time, taking on the world and all its bad guys.

They were back.

As though reading his mind, Skinner said, “Welcome back, you two.”

* * *

 

Scully looked up when the door to their office opened. Mulder entered with a surprised look on his face.

“Surveillance footage?” he asked, obviously surprised.

“Yeah,” she replied. “From Nugenics. I’ve been working on syncing all the cameras to the exact time code of Dr. Sanjay’s suicide. There.” She handed the keyboard to Mulder and asked, “What happened to you at Sanjay’s apartment, Mulder?”

She fought back irritation when he didn’t respond. He had no idea that she’d fallen asleep thinking about it last night. Deciding not to be combative, she added, “I can understand why you wouldn’t want to tell Skinner, but I was there. I saw you, on your knees, in pain.”

He hesitated, but finally replied, “I heard sounds.”

Sounds.

He’d heard sounds.

“It was a high-pitched frequency like-like a steel spike being driven through my head,” he replied. She’d heard Will mention something like that before, she recalled silently, and made a mental note to ask him about it as her husband and partner continued, “And then it focused into two words: find her.”

“There were no sounds,” she said carefully. “I didn’t hear anything.”

Mulder let out a defeated sigh and returned his gaze to the monitor. Before she knew it he was explaining something about birds and infrasounds.

“Mulder, how are these connected?” she challenged. “The birds, the suicide, the kids, the genetic anomalies--.” Then, it dawned on her. “What are you hiding?”

“Augustus Goldman is the only one who _might_ know how it fits together,” he deflected. “We gotta talk to him.”

This was not the end of the conversation, Scully told herself. She was not about to do this with him again. No way. She wasn’t some green agent, anymore. She was not about to follow him on some fool’s adventure again. They had a son. She couldn’t.

“What are _you_ hiding?” he asked. Scully knew that piqued interest tone of voice. She used to love that tone. It meant something exciting that she would never admit to him. Now? Now, she wasn’t sure _how_ she felt about it. Maybe, if things were different…

Then, it dawned on her and she grabbed the keyboard from him.

“Sanjay heard sounds right before he committed suicide.” Scully tried to keep the worry from her voice. They might be separated, but she didn’t want to be widowed and she sure as hell didn’t want William to lose his father. Despite their separation, she still loved Mulder and she sure as hell didn’t want to bury him. Again. “That could be you, Mulder.”

She had half a mind to make him stay at her house until this was over. Will wouldn’t be thrilled but, at least, he wouldn’t be fatherless if they were both keeping an eye on Mulder.

“This is dangerous,” she mused aloud.

“When has that ever stopped us before?”

Scully swallowed. “We didn’t have a son before.”

His features went from somewhat playful to completely sober, confirming her suspicions that he hadn’t thought about how their actions might impact their child.

“I might know how to get to Goldman,” she confessed, finally. He looked at her questioningly. “We’ll have to go to the hospital.”

“Okay,” he replied, rising from his seat. With a sigh, she followed his lead.

* * *

 

Mulder hung back while Scully conversed with the nun. Was she a nun? He wasn’t quite sure. She didn’t dress like a nun. Or, was that how nuns dressed now?

He listened as his wife explained, albeit not entirely accurately, their purpose for being there.

“Dr. Goldman is under investigation,” she said.

Mulder couldn’t resist. “Obamacare,” he added. The nun smiled politely but there was no amusement in her eyes.

Okay. He’d just keep his mouth shut, then.

When the nun began to walk off without Scully having mentioned the most important bit, he added, “Ask Dr. Goldman if he’ll talk to us about the Founder’s Mutation.”

That certainly got him a glare from his wife.

“Stay here,” the nun replied and took off.

Before he knew it, they were being all but forced out of the hospital.

Mulder’s blood boiled.

* * *

 

“It’s insidious, Scully,” Mulder said as they exited the building. “A ward for pregnant women paid for by Augustus Goldman, the founder of a company with deep ties to the Department of Defense. This could be another phase of the project – their experiments in eugenics.”

Scully was only vaguely aware of what he was saying. She was thinking about something else entirely.

“Those women in there,” he continued, “could be incubators.”

“Mulder,” she said, bringing them to a stop. She’d had it. While she understood the conspiracy, all she was able to think about was their son and the circumstances around his birth – the things that had terrified them when she was pregnant; things that still terrified her fifteen years later. “I’m not a fragile little girl.”

“Scully…” he tried. She knew that look on his face. He was thinking the same things that she was; he was just thinking about them differently.

Either way, their brains were on their son. Mulder was looking for the answers he’d started looking for fifteen years ago and Scully didn’t want to think about those questions.

“This is what you suspected all along but were afraid to articulate.” Guilt played on his face. While this was never exactly how she’d pictured they’d finally have this particular conversation, it was time. “Is this what you believe happened to me fifteen years ago? When I got pregnant, when I had my baby?”

* * *

 

Her baby.

The words stung.

William was _their_ son; not just hers. It takes  _two_ to have a child. That’s what he wanted to tell her, but Mulder stayed silent.

She wasn’t wrong. He’d been avoiding this conversation since he’d first suspected what Dr. Goldman was up to regarding his research.

“Was I just an incubator?”

It wasn’t the question itself that threatened to shatter him, but the helplessness in her tone; the look she had in her eyes. She wasn’t just asking one question. He’d loved her long enough to know that.

He wanted to tell her that she was the love of his life, the mother of his child, his partner, his wife, his best – and, currently, _only_ – friend in the world. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her there.

But, he didn’t. Instead, Mulder settled on, “You’re never _just anything_ to me, Scully,” hoping that she would know what he was really trying to say.

A knot formed in his stomach when she met his gaze. “Do you believe William was an experiment?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “All we can do, Scully, is pull the thread; see what it unravels.”

She didn’t like his answer, Mulder knew that. Hell, he didn’t like his answer. But, if they wanted answers about William, this was their chance and they had to make the tough decision to follow through in the search. Either way, it was also the only way to solve this case.

* * *

 

Scully flipped through the photo album, reliving the memories attached to the images; images of William over the years. She came across a picture of him on his fourth birthday. He sat at the kitchen table sporting blue frosting all over his face and the smile he’d inherited from his father. Behind him, she stood with Mulder’s arms wrapped around her waist. They, too, were smiling.

Her mother must have taken that picture.

The next picture was taken the next day. Scully remembered it vividly. Mulder and William were in the backyard, standing in front of a tee. They’d been outside for a couple of hours before Scully took the picture, she recalled. Mulder had been teaching William how to play baseball. The next picture, taken a few hours earlier, showed her boys playing catch.

She flipped the page. William with his first piano teacher. He looked so small sitting on the piano bench, his feet dangling off of it. Scully couldn’t help but to smile at that one.

“Hey,” Will greeted, causing her to jump. “Sorry.”

“How was school?”

“I haven’t been suspended,” he replied in a tone that she didn’t like. She must have made a face because he laughed. After a moment he gestured to the photo albums spread out across the table. “What’s all this?”

He sat in the chair beside her.

“I’m just looking at pictures,” she replied.

“I can see that,” he retorted. “I meant, what brought this on.”

“Something about the case I’m working made me think about when you were little,” she replied. He grabbed one of the albums and began to flip through it at a noticeably faster pace than she had been using. He laughed. “What?” Scully asked. Will showed her the picture.

It was the three of them, completely passed out on the couch at her mother’s. It was a holiday of some sort; she could tell by William’s outfit. He couldn’t have been more than two or three.

After a long while of looking at photographs, laughing at some and discussing memories attached to others, Scully started on dinner. Occasionally, she’d look up from her cooking to find William grinning at a photograph.

No. He couldn’t be an experiment. They’d raised him – _were_ raising him. He was, for all intents and purposes, happy.

Her mind wandered to the snow globes he’d somehow shattered the night he’d blacked out. To her knowledge that was the only time it had happened.

But, what if it wasn’t?

No.

William was _her_ baby. He was _normal_. There was no way that he was an experiment.

Right?


	29. The Minor Prophets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Founder's Mutation, pt 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a two-part chapter, but it ended up being three because I changed some stuff for a chapter later on...
> 
> Part 3/3

Scully didn’t like what he was proposing. Not that she usually did. Genetic mutations of the world population, forcing evolution.

Although, she had to admit that it wasn’t absurd given the things they’d seen during their partnership the first time.

“Every new species begins with a Founder’s Mutation,” he said in a tone that she didn’t like. “One child with the correct combination of DNA could be a start.”

Yes… But, what child?

Scully forced the thought from her mind. No, that child was _not_ William. Somehow, it made her think about an article William had asked her about several months ago.

“There was as study published last year in _Nature Communications_ by Batini and Hallast, that found that Y chromosomes in the majority of European men could be traced back to just three individuals from the Bronze Age.” Mulder shot her a look that asked how the hell she thought of that. Scully only sighed. “William found the article online and asked my opinion.”

He only nodded and rose from his seat. “I did some digging around the police archives, looking for anything related to Goldman. Seventeen years ago, Jackie Goldman was remanded to St. Elizabeth’s hospital as a forensics patient. She was adjudicated criminally insane.”

“Dr. Goldman’s wife?” Scully replied in complete surprise.

Mulder nodded. “She was convicted of murdering her baby. That body _also_ was never found.”

* * *

 

_“I love my daughter, but there was something… odd about her. I felt it from the day she was born.”_

Scully couldn’t get Jackie Goldman’s words out of her head. When she was pregnant with William, she assumed it was normal – how was she to know any different? He was her first baby; the baby she was never supposed to be able to have. Scully wondered if the things she’d felt with William when she was pregnant with him were maybe not as normal as she thought.

Then, he was born. When he was about six months old, he’d started to move the mobile above his crib. Or, maybe that was just when she’d noticed it. What if he’d been able to do it all along?

For his entire life, Scully and her son had a bond. She’d assumed it was just because he was her baby and he was a mommy’s boy. But, now she was questioning even that, wondering if maybe they were bonded because of the alien DNA she’d found when she went looking. Did he have it, too? Was that part of what happened to her when she was abducted so many years ago?

Is that why she could always sense William’s emotions, feel them as though they were her own? Was that how she could swear he’d been around when she was looking at houses last year, even though he hadn’t been there? Did it have something to do with his snow globes?

The more Scully thought about it, the more she hated this case. She hated the questions it was making her consider. She hated the implications – not just for her own child, but for those involved with Dr. Goldman as well.

She hated this case. She _really_ fucking hated it.

Right now, she all she wanted to do was call it a day, take William out of school early, and go away for a few days; hide with her baby boy until it blew over.

But, of course, she couldn’t do that. Scully had a job to do. Right now, she hated that job.

What she wouldn’t give to be hunting Bigfoot instead.

* * *

 

“All my training,” Scully said as they rounded the corner, “everything that I know about psychology tells me that she’s delusional; but, Mulder, there’s something about her that I trust.”

Mulder was inclined to agree and he didn’t need her to tell him that. He’d seen it in her eyes when they were talking to Jackie Goldman. But, he didn’t press.

“She heard a tone in her head, a screech. That’s what happened to me.”

“Are you saying that you think the baby that communicated with her communicated with you?”

“Wouldn’t be baby anymore.”

Suddenly, he had an idea.

Scully was giving him that look like he was crazy as they watched the Nugenics surveillance footage, looking for one Kyle Gilligan

“You want to talk to him, don’t you?” she asked with a sigh, surprising Mulder.

“You don’t?”

“I didn’t say that. But, Mulder, he’s a kid. He didn’t look much older than Will.”

Mulder understood what she was getting at, he really did; but, they had one chance at this and he was not about to blow it.

* * *

Scully let out a sigh as she killed the engine in front of the farm house. She grabbed her badge from her purse and exited the vehicle with Mulder.

A woman came out of the house and Scully introduced them.

“I’m Special Agent Scully. This is Special Agent Mulder. We’d like to speak with Kyle Gilligan.”

“I’m his mother,” the woman said, a little more antagonistically than was really necessary. Scully tried to shrug it off as Mulder took the reigns.

“And, he’s a minor and I won’t allow it,” the woman said. Scully deflated internally. There went their chance.

“You didn’t give birth to Kyle,” Mulder said, shocking both Scully and Kyle’s mother.

“Mulder,” Scully admonished, but either he didn’t hear her or chose to ignore her. Either one was possible.

“What did you say?” Kyle’s mother demanded.

“After the accident… where’d you find him?” Mulder asked.

This was not going to end well. Scully just knew it. This entire case had made her feel like coming back to the FBI was a mistake. This situation solidified that notion. Mulder had pissed off the woman. They were going to get nowhere.

“Get out!” she yelled.

“Mulder, she’s making it pretty clear,” Scully said, only to be cut off by a rather Hitchcock cawing of… were those crows? She watched with a mix of terror and awe as the birds descended.

All of a sudden, Mulder was down on the ground, crying out in pain. Instinctively, she dropped to his side.

“Mulder! Mulder!”  She faced Kyle’s mother. “Where is he?”

Scully was aware at how helpless she must have sounded, but she was not about to allow Kyle Gilligan to kill her husband. The woman didn’t answer.

“Where is he?” Scully demanded. The woman glanced toward the barn and, before she knew what was happening, Scully was making her way over there as quickly as possible.

She didn’t have to search. Kyle was out in the open.

“Whatever you’re doing, stop right there,” she commanded. He turned around, looking terrified.

She’d seen that look in William’s eyes before and, suddenly, she realized that she was pointing a gun at a child.

* * *

 

“He didn’t know what he was doing! He was just trying to protect me!”

Mulder couldn’t get the woman’s words out of his head. He wondered if it was the same for William where Scully was concerned. The difference, he told himself, was that Scully was William’s mother.

“Was that true, Kyle?” Mulder heard himself ask. “That you don’t know what you’re doing?” When the boy didn’t answer, Mulder turned to the back seat. Kyle was upset, that much was clear. “Why did you kill Dr. Sanjay?”

“I didn’t want him to die,” Kyle said, clearly upset and barely able to choke out the words.

“You made him kill himself,” Mulder deadpanned.

“No! I would never. He was… he was helping me.”

“You got inside his head; you got inside _my_ head. You can make people hear things. Like you just did; like you did to me in Sanjay’s apartment.” Suddenly it dawned on him. “You can’t control it.”

“I just want to find my sister,” Kyle replied helplessly.

“Molly?” Scully asked.

“At the hospital, where you worked. You heard Jackie’s story…”

“She told me that he has her. And Jackie is my real mother, okay?” He faced Mulder for the first time. “I have to find my sister!”

“Kyle, nobody knows where she is,” Mulder replied, trying to sound sympathetic.

“I know who knows,” Scully sighed.

Dr. Goldman. Right.

* * *

 

Scully fought the urge to cringe when she saw how rough Dr. Goldman was being with Kyle. It was completely unnecessary, but she forced herself to stay quiet.

“Where’s Molly?” Kyle asked.

“How do you know that name?” Dr. Goldman asked.

“My –.” Kyle winced as Dr. Goldman jammed a needle into his arm. “My mother told me to find her.”

“And, what would you do once you found her?” Dr. Goldman asked, surprising Scully. She glanced to Mulder. He seemed surprised, too.

“I don’t know,” Kyle confessed.

Dr. Goldman surprised her by allowing Kyle to meet his sister.

Scully watched as Kyle interacted with Molly. He was adorable in his shyness, his overwhelming happiness. Out of nowhere, Kyle bolted out of the room and Scully could swear she felt his anger – the same way that she felt William’s sometimes.

That was what unnerved her the most.

“Kyle?” She called after him but he had already taken off down the hall.

* * *

 

Mulder rounded the corner, calling out for the boy. He found Kyle with who he assumed to be Molly. He heard it before he saw it. Glass shattering everywhere.

The boy _shattered the glass_. Every window in the hall.

Before he could begin to process it, Kyle turned on Dr. Goldman.

“Kyle!”

Kyle threw Scully into the wall.

“Scully!” Fear shot through him as he tried to get to his wife. Before he knew it, Molly was throwing him down the hall. He couldn’t move. He was being held there.

Did the kids think that he was going to prevent them from hurting Dr. Goldman? Goldman, in Mulder’s opinion, was a monster. His only concern was for his wife.

* * *

 

“Well,” Skinner said, “they’re gone. There’s no trace of them anywhere.”

Scully let out a sigh. Part of her hoped that the kids would be okay, but the other part of her really just wanted to get home to _her_ kid.

She glanced down to the vial of blood in Mulder’s hand.

“Kyle’s blood.”

He grinned a self-satisfied grin. “A trace,” before he put it back in his pocket.

* * *

 

When Scully entered the house, she found Will sound asleep on the couch and the TV on. With a sigh, she flicked off the TV. She was about to wake Will, but hesitated, watching him for a moment.

Scully wasn’t sure that she would call the look on his face a peaceful one, but he didn’t look miserable anymore, either. She thought about Kyle. He had reminded her of Will a bit. She’d recognized some of the same looks in Kyle’s eye that she’d seen in William’s.

 _Was_ William more like Kyle than she cared to admit? Had he been an experiment? She hated herself for asking the questions. The truth was, she didn’t really want to know anymore. All Scully wanted to do was watch as her son grew up and accomplished his goals. She wanted to see who he would become.

Scully watched Will for another moment before pulling a small blanket over him, deciding against waking him to send him to bed. Tomorrow was Saturday, anyway.

She pressed a kiss to her baby’s forehead and made her way to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it me or did Dr. Goldman seem REALLY rough with Kyle when he was examining him? I'd have filed a complaint...


	30. Cupid Missed His Mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder and Scully Meet The Were-Monster, pt 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, like many of us in the fandom, I didn't care for season 10 at all, but this episode is in my all-time favorites list because it's hilarious to me. Rhys did an INCREDIBLE job as Guy and I honestly think if they had cast anyone else in the role, the ep would've bombed.

“I don’t think so, Dad…”

Mulder faced Will in disbelief. “What are you talking about? Of course, it was -.”

“Ice.”

“Ice,” Mulder repeated, sitting at the table across from his son.

“Ice,” William confirmed.

“There is no way that the Death Valley Racetrack was _ice_.”

“Believe whatever you want,” Will said, bringing his coffee mug to his lips. He took a sip. “Science, however, completely disagrees with you.”

“What do you know about it?” Mulder challenged. He took a sip of his own coffee. How was it that his _son_  made better coffee than he did? _That_ was an X-File in itself. Will shrugged and took a bite of his breakfast.

“I read an article about it a couple of years ago. Some scientists did an experiment. Apparently, the playa fills up with like three inches of water.” Will rose from his seat to take his plate to the sink. In a very Scully-like fashion, Mulder noted, the boy continued, “ _Apparently_ , that’s deep enough to allow ice to float but shallow enough to expose the rocks. Something about plummeting temperatures and windowpane ice… I don’t remember everything. I read it like two years ago.” He paused, realization playing on his face. “I _told you_ about it like two years ago. You’re not going senile on me, are you?” Will smirked as he added, “I mean, you’re getting up there…”

Mulder thought for a moment, a frown still plastered on his face.

“I don’t think so. No way. It can’t be ice.”

Will huffed. “Believe whatever you want. I’m gonna grab my stuff.”

Mulder listened as Will walked up the stairs. He was happy that Will had agreed to spend the weekend with him, he really was. Although, it required a rather outrageous bet that he knew Will couldn’t refuse.

Scully had admonished him when he told her of the bet, but even she had to applaud his tactics. Will always upheld his end of a bargain and this was one thing Mulder knew he had an upper hand on. Will was also never one to back away from a challenge.

To his surprise, the weekend had gone surprisingly smooth, save when Will demanded that Mulder hand over his credit card so that he could get some proper groceries if he was going to be staying there.

Still, to Mulder, it was the best weekend he’d had in he didn’t know how long. For that, he was grateful.

* * *

 

Scully entered the office in time to watch Mulder chuck a pencil into the poster she’d gotten to replace the one they used to have. Although she’d never admit it to _him_ , it just hadn’t felt the same without it.

“Mulder!” she admonished. “What are you doing to _my_ poster?”

“Scully,” he said, “since we’ve been away, much of the unexplained has been explained.” He reached for something on the desk as she tentatively walked closer. “The Death Valley Racetrack? Turns out it was just ice formations moving the rocks around as it melted.” He looked at her. “Yeah, _ice_. You know, Will and I talked about it this morning and, turns out, he was right – don’t tell him I said that.” She sat down, slightly amused. “Humility prevents me from recounting how I once thought it had something to do with a series of mysterious sightings of a rock-like creature in Colorado, which turned out to be just a publicity stunt by a local landscaping business.”

“Was that another revelation brought to you by our fifteen-year-old son?” She tried to hide the amusement from her voice, but he caught it and frowned.

“I will neither confirm nor deny that,” he retorted. He threw the picture over his shoulder. “It’s amazing going through these archives with fresh – if not wiser – eyes, how many of these cases, whether it’s the ‘Amarillo Armadillo Man’ or the ‘Hairy Whatzit of Walla Walla’ can be explained away as fraternity pranks, practical jokes, or people making stuff up simply because they’re bored and/or crazy. And, if that doesn’t explain it, then it was probably just _ice_.”

“Mulder… have you been taking your meds?”

In usual Mulder fashion, he ignored her question and continued, “Scully, Charles Fort spent his entire life researching natural and scientific anomalies which he published in four books, all of which I know by heart. And, at the end of his life, Fort himself wondered if it hadn’t all been a waste.” He leaned against the filing cabinet. “I get it. I’m a middle-aged man, Scully. No, I am. I am,” he added as if she’d protested. Which, she didn’t. She _knew_ he was a middle-aged man.

Wait.

Was he having a mid-life crisis?

“I’m thinking maybe it’s time to put away childish things: the sasquatches and mothmen and… jackalopes.” He heaved a sigh. “I thought it’d be great to get back to work. But, is this really how I want to spend the rest of my days? Chasing after monsters?”

“We’ve been given another case, Mulder,” Scully finally said. “It has a monster in it.”

With a look on his face that she couldn’t quite decipher, he chucked another pencil at the poster.

Scully let out a sigh. She was going to have to buy _another_ poster.

* * *

 

“One witness claimed that the creature had three eyes and the other one, one,” Scully said.

Mulder had to be honest, if they had come across this case years ago, he’d have had them on the first flight out. When did they switch roles? When had Scully been the one to jump at the monster cases while he played skeptic?

Why did William have to send his mind into a tailspin after what was an awesome weekend?

“Notice, they didn’t get a picture of it,” he retorted. “Which is odd because everyone always has a camera on them these days.”

He only knew that because Will had pointed it out to him.

“You want to talk to these witnesses while we’re here?” Scully asked. Mulder took one look at their pictures. They were stoners. He groaned and walked away. “ _Anyway_ ,” she pressed on, “this is the area where they say the saw the creature attacking the animal control officer, even though _he_ claims to not have seen whatever it was that was attacking him.”

“Of course not,” Mulder retorted. “Mountain lions always attack from behind. He was out here responding to a call about a mountain lion. It was a mountain lion! That’s what killed the other victim, too.”

“Well, that _is_ what the local authorities thought until they did a search the next morning and they found this area over here where they found three more victims.”

Mulder noted the den-like structure and blurted, “Grey wolves, Scully. They’ve made a comeback in this region. Wolves take their prey back to a lair.”

* * *

 

“That’s how I’d like to go out,” Mulder added with a bit of a huff.

What was going on with him?

Scully tried to ignore the comment and continued, “The uniqueness of the wounds, Mulder, implies a human element.”

Mulder groaned, “Aw, Scully, I gave up profiling before I gave up monsters. You’ve seen one serial killer; you’ve seen them all.”

Scully had to admit that she was shocked by the comment. “Mulder, I can see that you’re going through a questioning phase of some sort, but people have been killed here and if we can help stop that and save some lives, I think that is an unquestionably worthwhile thing for us to do; regardless of whatever the thing we find is animal or human or otherwise.” She held up the picture of the monster, noting again to herself that it looked like the kind of thing Will would draw. Really, she was trying to raise his spirits.

“Okay,” he conceded. “When you put it that way… but, mark my words, Scully. When we catch whatever is doing these killings, it’s only going to have two eyes.”

* * *

 

A growling got their attention. Naturally, Scully pulled out her weapon. She was nearly blinded by a flash of light.

“What are you doing?” she asked, looking at Mulder. Instead of his service weapon, he was holding his phone. “Mulder!”

“If this thing looks like what people say it looks like,” he said, “I’m gonna get a good picture of it.”

“If this thing looks like those drawings, I’m emptying my clip into it,” she retorted, not at all joking. “Even if it is in its underwear.” His phone was _still_ flashing. “Mulder!”

“It’s this new camera app that Will put on my phone. I’m not sure if it’s working right.”

Scully looked at the phone. “What is that?”

He lowered his phone and they realized that they were standing in front of a body. “It’s a fresh kill,” she noted aloud. Instead of replying, Mulder went running in the opposite direction, his stupid phone flashing as he went.

* * *

 

Mulder found himself between some semis. His heart thudded in his chest. This was either going to be awesome – picture perfect, not that he’d make that pun aloud – or he was going to die. Maybe, Scully would get there in time to save his life. She was always pretty good about that.

He heard a noise and turned around. He screamed – not that he’d ever admit it – and was face to face with the screaming animal control officer.

“I heard a noise over there so I ran over here!” the officer said. “ _Whaaat_ is up with your phone?”

“I don’t know. It’s this new app. I don’t know if it’s working right. My son downloaded it.”

“Are you taking picture or video?”

“I don’t know!” he replied in an exasperated helplessness.

“Go to Settings,” the other man said in a tone that Mulder would normally attribute to William.

“Where?”

“Go to the settings.”

The next thing Mulder knew, Scully kneeling over him with concern plastered on her face.

* * *

 

“That’s its ear,” Mulder said, shoving the phone in her face. She was _this_ close to kicking him out of the autopsy bay. “Or… maybe, it’s a foot.”

“Mulder,” she responded, clearly annoyed, as she pushed the phone away from her face.

“This one, if you squint,” and the phone was right back in her face, “looks like… something.” He swiped to another picture. “And, then this. That’s… that’s in focus!”

“But, what is it?”

She hadn’t had invasions of privacy like this since Will was little and waiting for her outside the bathroom door.

“It’s a close up! Of the creature.” Quickly, he added, “Mind you, I didn’t say ‘monster’. And, it wasn’t a Sasquatch. But it was definitely an animal. Man-sized and hairless.”

“Maybe, it was a mangy Sasquatch,” she retorted.

“Hey, you’re overlooking the video.” Defeated, she humored him. “Look.” He played the video. It was a shot of himself. Screaming.

“Mulder, you’ve got the lens pointed the wrong way.”

“Yeah, it’s the new camera app that –.”

“Will put on your phone,” she finished for him. “I know.”

“But, look!” She looked. And, regretted it. “It shot blood at me.” Scully scoffed. “From out its eyeball! I think… it was hard for me to see because I had blood in my eyes.”

“I haven’t done the blood analysis, yet, but it’s probably residue from the prior attack on _this_ victim,” she retorted, pointing to the body on her autopsy table. The body she _really_ wanted to get back to. The sooner they solved this case, the sooner they could get home. “ _And_ , animals don’t shoot blood out of their eyeballs.”

“Oh no?” he challenged in a very Will-like tone. “Well, tell that to the horned lizard!” He shoved a Wikipedia entry in her face. “Which,” he continued, “shoots blood out its eyeballs, Scully. Yes. It’s a defense mechanism. Scientific _fact_!”

“Mulder, the internet is not good for you,” she deadpanned.

“Doesn’t this bear a resemblance to what witnesses claim they saw?”

“What, so now you’re saying you were attacked by a six-foot horny toad?”

“Whoa! Let’s just keep this within the realm of the natural sciences, shall we?” Mulder retorted.

“My initial exam of the bite marks on this wound would suggest that they were made by a human being.”

Mulder had that look in his eye as he challenged, “So, we’re looking for a man-sized horned lizard with human teeth.” Scully tried not to laugh. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed his goofiness until now. And, damn it, had she _really_ missed it.

* * *

 

She had that look in her eyes as she smirked. Mulder wanted to kiss that smirk right off her face. Instead, he said, “Sounds a bit silly, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” she conceded, unable to hide the grin on her face. Even if she could’ve hidden the grin, he could see it in her eyes.

“You’re really enjoying yourself, aren’t you, Scully?”

“Yeah… I am.” She paused ever so briefly and said, “I forgot how much fun these cases could be.” She was having fun. With him. Working. Damned if he hadn’t waited over twenty years to hear her confess that. “It’s been a long day, Mulder. Why don’t you go back to the hotel and get some sleep?” Scully looked at him, amused, as she added, “And, try not to dream about monsters.”

He watched her for a moment, basking in their lightheartedness. It hadn’t been like this in a long time. Not even movie nights when he had his family under one roof for a couple of hours.

“What is it?” Scully asked when he’d been standing there for too long.

“Nothing,” he replied with a smile of his own. “You gonna call Will?”

Scully let out a breath. “It’s late. He’s probably asleep.”

“ _Our_ son? Sleeping? Right now?” Mulder replied in mock shock. “Absurd.”

Scully smirked. “He is _your_ son,” she retorted.

Despite the fact that, like his mother, Will could fall asleep just about anywhere, he didn’t sleep for very long. She was right. He’d inherited Mulder’s insomniac ways.

“I’ll call him on my way back to the hotel,” he replied.

Her eyes thanked him, but she said, “Tell him I love him.”

“I will.” He paused. “Good night, Scully.”

“Night, Mulder.”

He glanced back at her before walking out of the autopsy bay. She was getting right back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my favorite things about season 10 was technologically inept Mulder. I thought it would be HILARIOUS if Will put the app on his phone and then just assumed he would know how to use it. My brothers and I do stuff like this to our parents all the time and we're all grown. LOL!


	31. Ad Astra Per Aspera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Were-Monster, pt 2

An enthusiastic knocking… or, rather, _beating_ on her door woke Scully from what could have been a deep slumber. She knew that knock. She knew the person behind it. And, she was going to kill him.

“Scully!” Mulder said from behind the door. “Scully!”

“I’m coming,” she grumbled, making her way to the door. She opened it for him and climbed back onto the bed.

“You’re not going to believe this,” he said excitedly.

No, she probably wouldn’t. But, when had that ever stopped him from going off on some monologue and when had it ever stopped her from listening to said monologue? Never. Not one time since they’d known each other.

Scully positioned herself on the bed and braced herself for his speech.

“It’s a monster, Scully, plain and simple,” he finally said, “and, not just your every day, run-of-the-mill monster. But, we’re talking transformation here. Man into monster and back again.”

He continued his tirade as her brain struggled to keep up. While he blathered on, Scully thought about how things used to be, the first time they were partnered together. When they were considerably younger and doing this. She knew for certain that she couldn’t keep up with the late hours the way she used to be able.

It was nice to see him like this again. Scully couldn’t help but to admit that. For the first time in a _long_ time, he seemed to be acting like himself; acting like the man she’d fallen in love with, the man she had married. He was acting like _Mulder_. Not like the imitation, as Will liked to call him, that they’d been living with for so long.

Every time she opened her mouth to interject into this conversation he was having with himself, he told her exactly what she was going to say, like he was reading her mind the way he used to do so many years ago.

If she was being honest, she loved it; she wouldn’t admit that to him, but she was loving it.

“All I’m saying is: it’s a _monster_ ,” he concluded.

“Yeah, this is how I like my Mulder,” she blurted, not meaning to say that aloud.

“So, you’re agreeing with me?” He asked in complete shock.

“ _No_!” she retorted. “You’re bat-crap crazy!”

“But, what about the facts?”

“What facts?” she challenged.

“This guy,” he said, handing over his phone, “who the manager just saw turn into a monster, was wearing the clothes of one of our victims,” he continued, shoving the case file in her face, as he continued, “which we did not notice at the time because we thought we were looking for an animal. Turns out we were only half right.”

“Yeah, okay,” she conceded sarcastically. “Well, we need to talk to this guy.”

“Well, I doubt he’s coming back to his room. I did retrieve some personal items from it, though, that might help us track him down,” he replied, ignoring her sarcasm as he held up a pill bottle.

“Well, that sounds like a good investigative plan.” Again, he missed her sarcasm.

“The first thing we need to do, though…” he glanced back to the disturbing animal heads hanging on the wall before facing her again, “is check out of this motel.”

“Mulder! No! It’s late.”

“Scully, you’re gonna want to trust me on this one.”

“I _want_ to go back to sleep.”

He shot her a look and, suddenly, they were checking out of the motel.

* * *

 

“You went to your dad’s over the weekend?” Dr. Jake asked. He sounded surprised.

“I know,” Will retorted. “Even I am surprised by the turn of events.”

“Does this mean that things are better?”

There was hopeful tone to the psychiatrist’s voice that made Will feel a little bad.

“Um… no,” he replied quietly. “I went over because I lost a bet.”

“What was the bet?”

Will shrugged it off. “Eh, it doesn’t matter. I lost. I am a graceful loser.”

“So, how did it go?”

“It was okay. Better than I expected, honestly. I haven’t exactly forgiven him and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to. I mean, we went through a lot because of him.” Dr. Jake opened his mouth to say something, but Will cut him off. “I know… depression. It’s a bitch. But, I don’t really think he had much of an excuse, you know? Mom _begged_ him to take medicine. She begged him to get help. He refused. Steadfastly. Eventually, we had to leave.” He heaved a sigh. “In a way, I understand it – especially, now that I’m on medication, but at the same time, if he refused to get help, then he can’t really hide behind it. I know that sounds like a douchey thing to say, but that’s how I feel about it.”

“I understand,” Dr. Jake replied in a tone that said he really did. “Depression is a tricky thing, Will. Sometimes, it sneaks up on a person and they don’t really understand themselves.”

“No, I get that,” he replied. “I mean, he’s taking medication _now_ , so it’s a little easier to tolerate him because I can see that he’s trying. I just…” He exhaled a breath.

“You’re being cautious,” Dr. Jake finished for him.

“Yeah.” Will hesitated before asking, “Is that a bad thing?”

“No, I don’t think so. I _do_ think that there’s such a thing as being _too_ cautious, though.”

“How do I know the difference?”

“I think you’re already learning the difference. You spent the weekend with him, didn’t you?” Will nodded. “Was the bet for the entire weekend or…?”

Will cleared his throat. “Um… no, actually. It was to stay the night after movie night.”

“You stayed the entire weekend... on your own?”

Will shrugged uncomfortably. “I figured he was taking his medication, putting in some kind of effort. So, I could.”

Dr. Jake leaned back in his chair. “That’s a big step.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going back this weekend?”

“I don’t know. Probably not.”

“Baby steps?”

Will chuckled. “Something like that.” He paused and added, “I’m being cautious. You know? I just…”

“You don’t want to go through that again.”

“I don’t want _Mom_ going through that again. I can take whatever he throws at me, but I don’t want her to have to.”

“You’re pretty protective of your mom,” Dr. Jake replied.

“Well, my dad sure as hell isn’t,” Will retorted. “He used to be, from what I understand. But, his whole sinking-into-himself thing kind of torched that, I guess. I don’t know; maybe, I’m wrong. I just haven’t exactly seen it.”

“You said they’re out of town together?”

Will laughed. “Don’t get your hopes up. It’s not like that. They’re on a case.”

* * *

 

Mulder glanced into the store, panic soaring through him when he saw the disarray.

“What the hell happened?” he demanded.

“I don’t know!” Scully replied seeming to be as confused as he was. “I came in and I asked him if I could ask him some questions and he suddenly yelled, ‘I quit!’ and he went on a rampage. He fled out the back through the stock room.”

“What are you doing?” Mulder admonished. “You know it’s not safe to approach a dangerous suspect without back up.” The look she shot him was not lost on him. “Which way did he go?”

“He went that way down the back alley.” Mulder turned to chase this monster-person. Not only was he now intriguing, but he was also asking for a world of hurt. No one, and he meant _no one_ , got to threaten his wife.

Mulder was only vaguely aware that she was saying something about the lab as the door shut behind him. The lab could wait.

* * *

 

“Stop,” Mulder commanded, admittedly feeling flustered and territorial by Guy’s outrageous story regarding his wife. _His_ wife. “That… did _not_ happen.”

“I know it’s hard to believe, but apparently, I’m terrific in the sack.”

“You made that up.” The look on Guy’s face dared Mulder to say that again. “That was my _wife_ ,” he blurted.

Scully would murder him for that. After murdering Guy for such an outrageous lie.

“Oh… alright, you got me. Ever since I became a human, I can’t help but lie about my sex life,” he confessed. “But that’s the only untruthful bit in the whole story.”

Somehow, Mulder doubted that.

“So, please,” Guy asked pathetically, “Will you kill me now?” Mulder groaned. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“I thought I was going to believe you,” Mulder confessed, “but it’s just too… fantastic.”

“It’s not fantastic! It’s tragic!”

“No, I mean it’s just… silly.”

“That’s my life you’re talking about!”

“It’s my life, too. You and me, we’re the same, Guy.” Mulder had been so excited. _So_ excited. Now, he just felt… well, crazy. “We both want to believe in things that aren’t real or even possible.”

Before he knew it, Guy was taking off again. He considered chasing him for a moment. Instead, he grabbed the still full bottle of alcohol and started drinking.

At some point, he must’ve passed out. Mulder knew this because his head was pounding, he was lying on a grave, and his phone was ringing with the eerie ringtone that Will had set on his phone.

He _had_ to stop letting Will mess around with his phone. That was definitely clear.

Scully’s name showed up on his phone and he proceeded to tell her of his foolish ways. What the hell had she seen in him all those years ago? She had to be just as crazy as he was to, not only continue working with him, but fall in love with him, have his child, and marry him.

Maybe, Will _was_ the only sane one in their family.

The next thing he knew, he was hearing loud banging and Scully wasn’t responding. He called 911 and raced as fast as he could to the animal shelter she said that she was at. His heart thudded in his chest the entire time, threatening to pound its way into a heart attack.

“Scully!” he called frantically as he entered the shelter.

Naturally, she was fine and he was having trouble catching his breath. Did she seriously have no idea what she did to him? Had he not been so relieved that she was perfectly fine, he would have ripped her a new one.

“Hey!” she greeted, “You missed all the fun.”

She was crouched over the animal control officer, putting the cuffs on him.

Of course, she was.

“Are you okay?” was all he was able to get out.

“Yeah, but I hate to disappoint you. It wasn’t some monster running around killing people and eating their flesh; it was a normal human being.”

“Did you know it was him before coming here?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “That one autopsy result showed that the actual cause of death was strangulation. And, so, on a hunch, I analyzed the pole that he left behind and there was tissue and blood from previous victims.”

They watched as the local police took away their killer before he faced his wife.

“Scully, that is the second time you’ve approached a dangerous suspect without backup,” he reprimanded. “What’s going on?”

“I thought maybe you’d want some more quality time with your lizard-man.” He was about to lay into her when she poked his chest in, what seemed to be flirtation, and added, “Besides, you forget… I’m immortal.”

He watched as she begun to walk away. “Oh. Mulder, how did you figure out it was him?”

Mulder began to explain his process when a thought hit him and he took off to go find Guy.

* * *

Scully parked the car in her mother’s driveway and killed the engine. The little dog whimpered from his kennel in the backseat.

“You’re sure this is okay?” Mulder asked. Scully faced him. “I mean… you know…”

“Mulder, we might be separated, but you’re Will’s father. And, my mother loves you.”

“I don’t want to intrude,” he replied quietly.

“You’re not,” she replied, grabbing his hand. They stared at each other for a moment and the little dog whimpered again. “Come on.”

* * *

 

“You?” Will said, opening the crate. “ _You_ stole a dog? My compulsively rule following mother _broke the law_ and liberated this pupper from the woes of pound life?  _You_?” He shook his head in disbelief. “I honestly don’t know if I’m alarmed or impressed by this deviant behavior.” He glanced up and flashed a grin, “Who knew you were such a rebel?”

“Shut up, William,” Scully retorted in amusement.

“I think he’s right, hon,” Mulder added. “It’s uncharacteristic of you.” He caught Will tense. The teenager didn’t say anything and it took a moment for Mulder to realize what he’d said. Scully didn’t seem to mind and Maggie only smirked.

“What’s his name?” Will asked, chuckling as the little dog licked his chin.

“Daggoo,” Mulder replied.

“No, it’s not.”

He exchanged a look with his wife and said, “Yeah, it is.”

“No, it’s not,” Will said more firmly. “That’s a stupid name for a dog. Plus, that book is  _boring_. I do not understand your fascination with it.”

“I had a Pomeranian named Queequeg years ago.”

“ _That_ , I understand. Queequeg was a vicious dude. Pomeranians are also vicious creatures. Thus, _your_ Queequeg was aptly named. I don’t think this little dude is exactly going to grow up to be a ruthless harpooner.” He continued to pet the little guy. “What’s your name, buddy? Hmm? What do you think about… Dante?”

“The Inferno?” Mulder retorted.

“I was thinking Devil May Cry, but yeah, I suppose that is loosely based on The Divine Comedy.” Will frowned. “Nah, he’s not a Dante.” He paused, continuing to play with the small animal. “Virgil, maybe. Are you a Virgil?”

“Why don’t you choose a name after dinner?” Maggie suggested, tapping Will on the shoulder. “Dinner’s ready. Fox, you’re staying, right?”

“He is,” Scully confirmed for him. It made his heart swell. Maybe, things were finally getting back to some sense of normal.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won’t lie. I read Moby Dick. One time. It was, very easily, one of the most boring books I have ever read in my entire life... and, I’m a bookworm. I had to note it. Lol


	32. City in a Snow Globe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pre- "Home Again"
> 
> Takes place a few days before "Home Again"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have those tissues ready. Especially, since (once you finish this) you'll know what's coming next.
> 
> Dont @ me.

Scully woke to the sound of the dog, still named Daggoo “for the time being,” whining outside of her bedroom door. It took a moment for her to process what was happening. It had been years since she’d had a pet in her home.

It wasn’t until she brought the little bundle of energy back into the house that Scully realized the coffee had already been brewed. It wasn’t that she was ungrateful that he’d already made the coffee, it was that William was up earlier than usual.

On a Saturday.

Again.

She’d been observing his behavior for weeks now, curious as to what effect the new normal of this school year would have on him. So far, it only made her anxious.

Will’s entire routine had changed. Normally, his mother would be thrilled to find him adapting so well and of his own volition; but, he wasn’t doing that. Will was adapting out of necessity and it was making him edgy; it was making her nervous.

He was getting up earlier than he had always done in the past. He’d run, put on coffee, hop in the shower for a few minutes, and come into the kitchen fully dressed as she made breakfast. Then, he’d sit at the piano – if he had time – long enough to run through whatever he was working on for the conservatory before heading out the door to school. Scully would finish getting ready and head to work.

On Saturdays, he would sleep in until noon – like most teenagers – before getting up, running, showering, and spending the day working on his instrument; unless, he managed to get suckered into going to his father’s for a day or two. Scully could only assume that this routine was similar, if not identical, when Will was at Mulder’s, too. The boy was nothing if not consistent; a true creature of habit.

From the outside, it would appear to be a normal routine. Except, with William, it wasn’t. He had always been the kind of kid who had to be awakened several times and threatened with a cold glass of water to the face before crawling out of bed and toward the shower. He come downstairs for breakfast and coffee, which he’d usually end up dumping into a to-go mug as Scully ushered him out of the house so that she could drop him off at school on her way to the hospital.

That was before.

Now, when he got home, he’d go for a run, shower, and sit at the piano until she forced him to go to bed and, even then, it seemed like two or three hours before the light protruding from under his bedroom door would flick off.

The next day, they’d do it all over again.

Will had always had trouble staying asleep, but Scully often found herself wondering how many days he’d go without it before his body finally gave out and forced sleep.

The front door opened, getting her attention. Daggoo ran up to greet her son and Will knelt to scratch his dog’s head.

“Hey, buddy,” Will said before quickly withdrawing his hand, a grimace on his face as he looked up at her. “Why is he all wet?”

“I just brought him in.”

“Already? I just took him out…” he glanced at his watch. “Oh... I guess it’s been awhile.”

“How long have you been awake?” Scully asked.

Will shrugged sheepishly and said, “Couple days.”

“William!” Scully chided. “You need to sleep!”

“My brain knows that, but my body didn’t seem to get the memo,” he said, opening the cabinet as he approached it. Scully watched as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

“This isn’t healthy, Will.”

“It’s fine. I’m used to it by now.” He paused. “What time are we going to Grandma’s?”

“We have to be there at six but -.” Her phone rang. Without looking at it, she answered, “Scully.”

Of course, it was Mulder.

It was too early to deal with whatever he was rambling about.

“Yes, but Muld-.” He cut her off again. She glanced to Will who only rolled his eyes and retreated down the hall, the little dog following closely behind him.

* * *

Will ran a towel over Daggoo, hoping to dry him off somewhat. When he was satisfied, he tossed the towel in the hamper and made his way to his bedroom.

He didn’t want to think about what his parents were discussing; although, he had the distinct feeling that he’d be going to his grandmother’s for dinner all by himself. With a sigh, he sat at his desk while his dog hopped on the bed and curled up.

Will didn’t mind going to his grandmother’s alone, really. He loved spending time with her. She let him be who he was and they had a lot in common. She taught him to cook new things, they discussed books and TV, occasionally branching into politics although, Will was admittedly ignorant on enough on a lot of U.S. policies that he tried to avoid that topic. Occasionally, his grandmother would coax him into going with her to Mass. He wasn’t exactly the most religious person, despite having been baptized as a baby. That was another topic he’d rather avoid: religion.

In all honesty, the problem that he had was in the fact that his parents had just gotten back from an out of town case a few days ago. Will hated the way his mother was following his father on these whims. It was something she’d promised not to do, something he knew she’d done in the past – not that she really talked about her FBI career from the first time.

His father did, though.

That’s what Will hated about this arrangement. If it was anything like the stories he’d grown up hearing from his father, he’d just as soon see his mother go back into medicine and leave the life of ridiculous adventures behind her. She loved medicine, even when it was hard. There was no denying that. She loved it the way Will loved his piano.

At least, that’s how it felt.

But, no. His father called with a case and she followed him. That’s what Will couldn’t handle. If he was going to end up losing one parent on reckless endeavors, on foolishness… well, he had a preference.

Did it make him an asshole? Probably.  
But, did he care? No.

The truth was that Will still hadn’t forgiven his father. In fact, he didn’t know if he ever could. He understood why his father did what he did. Will would never agree with it, but he understood it.

He understood that his father struggled with mental health issues. He was quite impressed that he was taking medication for it. Finally. His father was trying and even Will would acknowledge that.

But, could Will _trust_ him?

The simple answer was no. He couldn’t.

Will didn’t like that feeling, either.

He heaved a sigh and reached for the snow globe on his desk. It was the latest addition to his collection: an eclipse snow globe. This one was completely different from the rest in his collection. Somehow, the difference brought about a stranger calm, more of a sense of peace – the way thunderstorms did for him.

He shook the snow globe and set it on the desk, resting his chin on his folded forearms as the sparkling black flecks swirled around in the glass ball. It seemed to be a representation of what Will often felt inside; the darkness swirling in him, the beast waiting to strike if he would only let it have a chance.

Will _had_ accidentally let the beast play a couple of times. Twice in his life, he’d blacked out only to realize something really strange had happened. Most recently, he’d shattered all of his snow globes that remained at his father’s house. The incident had nearly made him box up their twins that stayed at his room at home.

But, for some reason, Will hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it. Whether it was because now he only had one of each instead of two or if the thought of not being able to observe them was too stressful. Not that it really mattered, he supposed. The snow globes remained on the shelf in their proper order.

* * *

Scully reached her son’s room, half-surprised to find the door wide open. He sat at his desk, his head down but resting on his arms and he stared at the snow globe. She hadn’t seen him watch one so intently.

Ever since he was little, William had always been fascinated by them. While she had definitely seen some pretty snow globes, she never understood her son’s need to collect them. But, he did. She’d asked him about his attraction to them one time and he’d only shrugged and said they were relaxing.

Scully didn’t ask again. Not that she hadn’t wanted to – she truly wanted to understand what drew him to them; she wanted to connect with him in that way. But, like all the things that seemed to bring him peace, he kept those revelations to himself and only himself.

“William?” she asked quietly, walking toward him.

“Hmm?” he replied, not budging.

She rubbed a hand across his shoulders, noting the odd snow globe that she hadn’t seen before. Instead of the usual, winter wonderland kind, this had black flecks that swirled around inside and the ball rested on a shiny, chrome stand. Even Scully had to admit that it intrigued her.

“That’s new.”

“Grandma got it for me.”

Scully looked down at him for a brief moment. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

It wasn’t until she had an introverted son that she realized how right Mulder was over the years when he complained about that phrase. It _was_ annoying. Especially, when it wasn’t entirely truthful.

“Will,” she pressed softly.

“Are you going out of town again?” Will reached over, leaving his chin on one forearm, and shook the snow globe again before folding his arms again. His eyes never left the object of their focus. “Is that what he called about?”

“No,” she replied. It took a moment for her to realize what it was he was actually asking. “Does it bother you when we take out of town cases?”

Will pursed his lips together thoughtfully. “Sometimes.”

They hadn’t been on many, she noted to herself. Just a small handful since they’d been back and never for more than a couple of days.

“I just…” Will continued. He let out a breath. “I just want to know that you’re coming home; that I’m not going to get pulled out of school because you’ve been shot or stabbed or something.”

He worried, she thought as her heart melted in her chest. Scully had always known that William was protective. Over the last year, that side of him was more prevalent than its usual pointed subtlety.

Before she could respond, William added, “I just… I want to make sure that you’re okay, Mom.”

Tears burned her eyes from his sweet confession, although they didn’t fall. “William, you’re fifteen years old. Be a kid. Okay?” Scully pressed a kiss to his hair and said, “Let _me_ worry about _you_.”

“I can’t commit to that,” he replied looking up at her. She deflated. “I don’t like you doing this. I really, truly don’t. I don’t like not knowing what to expect.”

“I know,” she replied, not sure exactly how to convince him that although they did take out of town cases, they stuck pretty close to home. “I’ll talk to Dad, okay? Maybe, we can avoid an out of town case for awhile.”

Will’s only response was an unconvinced sigh.

“You have to understand,” she continued, “sometimes, we don’t have a choice. We have to take what’s assigned to us, too.”

“I know,” he replied. “I just don’t like it.”

Scully could sense that there was something else going on below the surface; it practically radiated from him.

“Will…”

She wanted to ask him to open up to her, share what was going on in his head. But, she knew better. He wouldn’t. The things he feared, Will rarely spoke aloud. It was almost like he was afraid that the moment he did, they would become real.

William was somewhat superstitious like that. Scully could respect that. It was something that he’d inherited from her. Bottle and bury. That’s what Mulder had said once. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but she’d been too angry at the time to acknowledge the validity of his statement.

“So, what _did_ He want?” Will asked.

Will was still learning how to reincorporate the term ‘Dad’ into his vocabulary when referring to his father without anger. She’d become accustomed to the capital H when Mulder was the subject of conversation. At least, he’d stopped using the phrase ‘my father’, she mused. That was a baby step in a positive direction.

Scully shook her head with a chuckle. “He was just rambling off some theory. Nothing to be concerned about.”

Will’s only response was to reach over and shake the snow globe again.

Scully pressed a kiss to his hair and proceeded to leave him to his reverie. She paused at the door, glancing back at her son, hoping he’d have at least shifted position; but he watched the snow globe with a stoic rigidity to his demeanor.

Something was bothering him. _Really_ bothering him.

She only wished he would tell her what.

* * *

Maggie looked up to see her daughter glancing into the living room, watching the teenaged musician at the piano therein.

“He’s getting really good,” she noted, getting Dana’s attention again.

“He is,” her daughter agreed. Maggie must have hesitated too long because Dana gave her a look and said, “What is it, Mom?”

“How’s he doing… with everything else?”

Dana sighed. “He’s… coping, I guess. He’s in therapy. We go to family therapy.”

“Has he spent any more time with Fox?”

“He was with him a couple of weeks ago,” she replied. “It’s been a slow process, but I think he’s starting to come around.” Dana exhaled a heavy breath. “I just hope he stays on this trajectory.”

“What do you mean?” Maggie asked. “Did something happen?”

“Well, no. Not exactly. He just… he expressed some concern about my going back to the FBI-.”

“He’s not the only one,” Maggie grumbled only to receive a frown from her daughter. “I know, I know. You’re a grown woman with a family of your own and a career but, Dana, really…”

“Mom,” her daughter groaned.

“I just remember what it was like last time. There was a lot of danger around what you and Fox did, Dana,” she said firmly.

“I know; I know.”

There was a moment of awkward silence as Maggie tried to find the words to ask how things were going with her son-in-law, if things were better. Would she and William be going home? Would they be getting a divorce? How long were they going to remain separated? Had their return to the FBI, as much as she hated watching her daughter and son-in-law in a job like that, helped anything?

“I mean, I guess… in a way,” Dana said. Maggie realized she must have asked that last part aloud. “It’s nice seeing him act like himself again.”

Maggie couldn’t help but to smile at the small grin on her daughter’s face.

“He did seem to be…,” she paused for a split second, searching for the right word, “ _lighter_ when the two of you were here a couple of weeks ago.”

“I think being back to work is good for him,” Dana confessed. “I think the medication is helping, too.”

“It seems to be helping William, too.”

“Sometimes, yes.” There was a tentativeness to her daughter’s tone that got Maggie’s attention. Dana must have sensed it because she elaborated, “He still has his issues with anxiety, but it seems to lessen it some.”

“That’s good then,” Maggie replied. A pain twinged in her back and she winced.

“Mom, are you okay?”

Maggie only nodded. “Just a twinge,” she said, turning toward the cabinet, breathing despite the pain with her daughter’s watchful eye.

“I’ll get you some aspirin,” Dana said. “Sit.” There was an authority in her voice that Maggie didn’t often receive. Dr. Scully mode, as Fox called it. He would also argue that it was best not to argue with her when receiving that tone. Not that Maggie hadn’t known that. She _had_ paid for her daughter to attend medical school.

After a moment, Dana returned with aspirin and water. Maggie took it and voiced her thanks.

“Is Fox still planning to come over?” she asked, hoping to get rid of the look her daughter was giving her in that moment.

“He was when I talked to him earlier.” Dana was still giving her that look. Maggie was growing to hate that look.

“I’m _fine_ , Dana,” she insisted. “It’s just an ache.”

“Okay,” her daughter relented, but the concession was only present in her voice; not remotely showing in her demeanor.

* * *

The sound of the piano floated to the front porch, muffled by the door that separated Mulder from his family and mother-in-law. Instead of knocking, he stood on the porch of Maggie’s house, listening.

God, William was getting good. Not that he hadn’t always possessed raw, natural talent, but his training was proving to be worth every penny they were spending on it. Mulder knew the second he knocked on the door, the playing would cease. Will would tense up like he had done for awhile now. It would be awhile before he relaxed and sat back down at the piano. Mulder was hesitant to do that. The boy seemed to be on a roll.

Finally, the cold started getting to get him and he broke down and knocked. As predicted, the music ceased. What he hadn’t expected was for his son to be the one to answer the door. In all honesty, Mulder had expected one of the Scully women in his life to do it simply because they were expecting him.

“Hey, bud,” Mulder greeted with a smile.

“Hey.” There was no smile on the teenager’s face, but he didn’t look particularly choleric, either. Mulder considered that a good start to the evening. Will silently stepped to the side, allowing his father entry to the house.

“Where is everyone?”

“Kitchen.”

“You sounded great,” Mulder said. “I heard you from the porch.”

“Thanks.”

With that Will returned to the piano bench, to his father’s surprise, and Mulder made his way to the kitchen. He stopped at the entry, concerned, when he noticed the way Scully was doting on her mother. He didn’t have to see his wife’s face to know which look was on it.

“Everything okay?” he asked. The women both faced him. Scully’s expression seemed to be uncertain but his mother-in-law only smiled and rose from her seat.

“Mom,” Scully tried.

“I’m _fine_ , Dana,” Maggie said, slowly making her way to him. She pulled him into a hug, pecking his check on the way in. “How are you, Fox?”

“I think I should be asking _you_ that question,” he replied when they pulled apart.

“Nonsense. Just a twinge. Dana’s making a bigger deal of it than it is.”

Mulder glanced to Scully in time to see her roll her eyes. She very clearly disagreed but he was _not_ about to take sides. The last time he took sides, he ruined a relationship he didn’t want to ruin.

He held out a bouquet of flowers to his mother-in-law. She accepted them with a smile, thanks, and another peck to his cheek. Mulder glanced to Scully who was giving him a smirk that clearly screamed “suck up.” He could only grin back.

He was determined to hold his position as Maggie’s favorite of her children’s spouses. He had no shame in that.

“So, what smells so good?” he asked as Maggie put the flowers in a vase.

“Pot roast,” Will retorted from behind him, causing Mulder to jump. He hadn’t realized the piano had ceased to be played nor had he heard Will walk toward him.

“It should be ready,” his mother-in-law said. “William, will you set the table, please?”

“Yep,” he replied pleasantly and moved toward the cabinet as asked.

“What is your mother’s secret to getting him to cooperate like that?” Mulder asked quietly into Scully ear.

She stifled a laugh. “I’ve been trying to figure that out, too,” she replied quietly, softly touching his arm as she moved to the other side of him.

Mulder’s heart leapt and he forced himself to breathe.

“Sit. Sit,” Maggie’s voice penetrated his thoughts. Mulder exhaled, realizing that Scully already had.

They ate with comfortable conversation. Mulder even had the pleasure of hearing Scully’s laughter again every now and then, no matter how hard she tried to stifle it. He caught Will’s smirks and Maggie’s smiles.

Mulder couldn’t remember the last time something had felt so right. The only thing wrong with the picture was that his wife and son would go to another house. But, he wasn’t about to let that knowledge bring him down; not right now.

It was like sitting in a painting, Mulder thought. He took it all in, committing it to memory; unwilling to let it go.

Like most good things, the night ended too soon for Mulder’s taste. He walked Scully to her vehicle, his hand on the small of her back where it belonged. He hadn’t realized it until he shut her car door. He wondered if she’d noticed or if it was so natural still that she hadn’t the same way he hadn’t.

Mulder watched Scully’s vehicle as she backed out of the driveway and drove off before he got in his own vehicle, parked on the street, and made his way back to his house; hopeful that his family was one step closer to coming home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, the back pain... So, my dad had a very serious heart attack on Father's Day last year (he's okay) and it turned out that he'd been having a bunch of minor ones like the entire week before. He thought they were just back pain, twinges -- how he described it. The doctors said that if he hadn't been taking aspirin all week, he would've died before having the major heart attack or during the major heart attack at the latest. So, that's where I got that, from what my dad's doctors said.
> 
> ^^ I have no problem noting this since, I'm assuming, you've all seen "Home Again." Just saying. Don't @ me.
> 
> \--- Shameless self-promotion ---
> 
> Twitter: @catebatman  
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> Feel free to sub/follow any or all of the above.


	33. Painted Skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home Again, pt. 1
> 
> (sort of).
> 
> Don't @ me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I know. Don't @ me.
> 
> Part 1. Pre-Home Again/Home Again (starts day of but doesn't really get into the actual episode, yet).

Scully let out an agitated sigh after she killed the engine. Could William not make it through _one_ week without getting in trouble? Was that really too much to ask?

She’d considered having Mulder deal with this. He was the boy’s father, after all. Scully knew that Mulder would do it without complaining, but he and William were still on very fragile ground and she wasn’t going to be the one to make it collapse.

So, she sat in a school parking lot, willing herself to calm down before going inside to pick up her delinquent.

When had that happened?

When had William gone from the sweet, innocent, caring boy to this aggressive, vandalizing, troublemaker? She heaved another sigh. William was acting out, she knew that. The question was: why?

What happened now?

Frustrated, she exited the vehicle and proceeded to pick up her son. She had to get back to the office so she and Mulder could make their way to Philadelphia for their most recent case. Local PD was already awaiting their arrival. If Scully hadn’t been so angry at this point, she might feel badly about keeping them waiting. The sooner they got here, the sooner she could get home and deal with this.

In the mean time, there was no way in hell that she was leaving William home alone. No, sir. He was staying with her mother. Period.

She had half a mind to ground him from his piano. But, that wasn’t punishment; that was just mean. It was the only positive, productive thing he had going right now and, angry as she was, she couldn’t take that from him.

Oh, she knew Mulder would in a heartbeat. He’d already begun formulating a proper punishment plan when she was leaving the office.

This wasn’t exactly what she’d hoped they’d get around to discussing on the two and a half hour drive they had ahead of them.

When he spotted her, William paled slightly. He must have been able to feel her anger.

 _Good_ , she thought. He needed to know that he _was_ in trouble and, this time, they weren’t going to dance around his behavior.

“Mom-.”

“Don’t, William,” she snapped. “Do not.”

Will’s only response was to nod and turn his gaze to the floor as she went to talk to his principal.

His reaction threw her. Was that remorse she sensed? That would be a first.

* * *

Mulder glanced over to Scully, who was staring out the passenger window. She was pissed. A blind person would be able to see that. He wanted to tell her that they would figure out how to deal with their son.

The truth, however, was that he had no idea how they were going to do that. Will no longer held any regard for threats concerning his behavior. He didn’t have much from which they could ground him, either.

He didn’t have friends, save Matty who was off at college. They could take away his Xbox or PlayStation, whatever it was he actually had. Was it okay to ground a kid from reading? That seemed a bit counter-productive.

They couldn’t take his phone because he actually needed it. They couldn’t ground him from running because they both knew he’d get in even more trouble without some kind of outlet for his anxiety and aggression.

They couldn’t take his piano any more than Mulder could be taken from his message boards or Scully could be taken from her journal articles. It was the thing he needed most. If they took that from him, God only knew what worse thing he would do.

So, that left… what?

Will didn’t care about much else.

“Vandalism?” Scully growled. Mulder glanced to her again before returning his gaze to the road. “Seriously? When did he start _vandalizing_ things?”

She let out a frustrated sigh.

Mulder wanted to tell her that Will was frustrated and acting out for some reason, but he had a feeling that she already knew that. He sure as hell didn’t want to be on the receiving end of her anger.

Not that he wasn’t upset, too.

It was a low move for their teenaged son. He supposed they could prolong allowing him to get his driver’s license, but he questioned how much Will actually cared about that and it was still a few months off.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Scully said before letting out another sigh.

“What?”

“Making him wait another year until we let him get his license.”

Well, he hadn’t meant to say _that_ part out loud…

“We’ve told him before that, as long as we could trust him with a vehicle, he could get one,” she continued. “We can’t even trust him to go to class at this point.”

She wasn’t wrong.

“Scully, as much as I hate to say it, we _can_ take away his piano for a couple weeks.” When she didn’t respond, Mulder glanced at his wife again, before letting out a sigh. “I know it’s harsh, but it might be the only thing that gets through to him.”

“Mulder, you know as well as I do that we can’t do that.”

Mulder thought for a moment. “What if we gave him the choice?”

“What choice?”

“He can lose his piano for two weeks or wait another year to get his license?”

“That’s not too hard on him?”

Mulder huffed. “Scully, he vandalized the school. All he does is fight. He frequently cuts class. His grades are barely high enough to avoid getting kicked out of his fancy school. There _has_ to be consequences.”

“I don’t disagree. We’ve let our own guilt get in the way of disciplining him but, Mulder, there’s going to be a point where we won’t be able to chauffeur him around anymore and, if he chooses his piano -.”

“We’ll know something is seriously wrong?” he interjected. Scully chuffed out a humorless laugh. Mulder sighed. “I hear what you’re saying, Scully; I do. You said it yourself, this has gone on long enough. If he doesn’t start facing serious consequences for his actions now, who’s to say he won’t keep spiraling? I, for one, don’t want to be his one phone call.”

Scully sighed a defeated sigh. It was the sigh told him she knew he was right. Without thinking, he grabbed her hand and laced their fingers together.

“Look,” he began softly, “we’ll figure this out. He’s with your mom while we’re gone and he’s always on angelic behavior with her. Let’s get through this and, when we get back, we can deal with Will.”

“Okay,” she sighed, still holding his hand. “You’re right.”

“Can I get that in writing?” He joked. Mulder saw her roll her eyes with a smirk in his peripheral. He couldn’t help but to grin.

They rode in silence for a few miles, hands still laced together by fingers, before Scully said, “He used to be so _easy_. What changed?”

Mulder fought the urge to tell her that his own mental state and the state of their marriage had changed. She was still holding his hand, after all, and he wasn’t going to let go until she did. So, he kept his mouth shut.

* * *

Maggie studied her grandson as he sat on her couch, sketching a picture. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him draw anything. That wasn’t to say that he wasn’t doing it when he was with his parents, but it had been a long time since she’d witnessed his artistic abilities manifest in some way other than the melodic.

“You can say it, you know,” he said quietly, without diverting his gaze from whatever he was working on.

“Say what?”

“Whatever it is that you’re thinking.” He exhaled a deep breath and added, “I can take it.”

“I’m wondering what possessed you to deface your school,” she replied knowing how harsh she sounded. Maggie didn’t need to see the teenager wince to know that.

Will closed his sketchbook and set it on the coffee table.

“Honestly? I don’t know. It just seemed like a good idea at the time.” She must have given him a look that reflected how dumbfounded she felt because he quickly added, “I didn’t say it _was_ a good idea. It just… seemed like one. I can’t really explain it.”

There was a brief moment of silence before Maggie said, “You remind me so much of your uncle sometimes.”

Will choked out a laugh. “I’m the complete opposite of him. We just have the same legal first name.”

Maggie smiled. “I meant your Uncle Charlie.”

“Oh…” Will replied awkwardly. “I wouldn’t know, I guess.”

“When he was your age, there was no getting him to do anything he didn’t want to do. In fact, he was compelled to do the complete opposite.” Maggie paused, mentally reliving some of Charlie’s more deviant behavior. She chuckled, “Then, there was your mother.”

Will perked up at this revelation and grinned. “ _Mom_?”

“Oh, yes,” she replied. “Melissa was deviant in her own way – sneaking out and staying out all night. Charlie did all of the things we told him not to do. The two of them were manageable, though. Your grandfather and I could always see it coming a mile away.” She grinned at the memories. “Your mother, though… she snuck up on us.”

“What was she like?” He asked, his grin turning into a full-fledged smile.

“She went through her phase when she was a little older. Dyeing her hair obnoxious colors, dressing like a groupie.”

Will’s laughter cut her off. “My mom was a _punk_? My mother, the person who obsessively follows all the rules and plays by the book, was a punk?”

Maggie couldn’t help but to chuckle. “She was. Dana was the scary one.”

“Why?” There was a look of awe and wonder mixed with disbelief, if she had to guess, on William's face. She didn't doubt that she had his full attention.

“She was a perfect angel one minute and a hellion the next. We never had any clue when the hellion would strike.”

“My mind is... _massively_ blown,” he replied with a bewildered look on his face. “You've got to be-you’re totally messing with me! I believe that about my dad, but my _mom_? What?”

“It’s true. I might have a picture of it somewhere.”

“I will definitely help you search for that because I think I need that mental image in my life.”

His grandmother couldn’t help but to laugh. She watched his expression change to one she didn’t know. “What is it?”

William sighed. “There’s a full-time position open at the conservatory. My teacher talked to me about it. I’m all but guaranteed the spot. It’d be like Juilliard… sort of… but for high school. It’s a smart move for my goals.”

“Have you talked to your parents about it?”

“Not yet.” He shrugged sheepishly. “I guess, I thought I got kicked out of this school that I hate so much, they couldn’t say no.”

“Your parents support your dream, Will.”

“In theory, they do. I know that. But, when push comes to shove, I’m willing to do whatever it takes and, honestly, Mom was _psyched_ about this school. If I wanted to go to a normal college and get normal job, I would be, too. But, I don’t want that. I’m miserable here and they don’t seem to get that.” He scoffed. “They always tell me how great this school is and how it’s a good opportunity. For most people, it is. It just feels like a prison for me. If I could study at the conservatory, at an arts-centric school… who knows what doors will open for me? Juilliard suddenly becomes an _actual_ possibility instead of a pipe dream.”

“It’s not a pipe dream, Will,” she replied softly. “It’s something you can do if you keep working at it.”

She watched her grandson’s face soften. He looked so much like Dana when his defenses would go down, when he started to believe in himself.

“Thanks, Grandma,” he replied softly. He exhaled a rueful sigh.

“What is it?”

“I just…” William paused as though he was searching for the right words. “I know I’m a disappointment sometimes. I do all the wrong things – on purpose – and I don’t know why, but… I don’t know, talking to you always makes me feel better.”

Maggie couldn’t help but to smile. It made her think of her youngest child. There was so much hurt still between she and Charles. Part of her wished she could take it back, that she could talk to him then the way could talk to his nephew now. Maybe, things would’ve gone differently.

* * *

Will wasn’t sure what was going through his grandmother’s head and, although he had a million questions that he wanted to ask in the moment, he knew what a moment of introspection looked like. He had to pee, anyway. It was a good opportunity to leave her with her thoughts.

After he’d washed his hands, he stared at himself in the mirror. Will hadn’t particularly liked the person staring back at him for quite some time. In some ways, it was like looking at a stranger. He didn’t like that feeling.

Finally, with a sigh, he put on his pleasant face and made his way back to the living room.

He was surprised to find his grandmother not sitting on the couch.

“Grandma?” He asked.

No answer.

A chill went down his spine. Instinctively, he knew something wasn’t right.

“Grandma?” He called a little louder, slowly proceeding further into room. When he didn’t see her, he went to the kitchen.

Will froze.

“Grandma?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shameless self-promotion!
> 
> Twitter: @catebatman  
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	34. Salt in the Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home Again, pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I'm dragging this out.
> 
> Also, I'm focusing less on the actual case and more on the emotional aspect of this. You'll understand why later. :)
> 
> Also, I'm taking some liberties with this episode in particular since, in this fic (obviously), they're raising William. It sorta changes some things, lol.
> 
> The dialogue from the ep, as always, was not written by me; I'm just playing with it. Please, do sue me. You'll only get my Xbox and I'm pretty partial to my Xbox.

Mulder entered the crime scene a step behind Scully. They were definitely in the right place. He saw her reach for her badge and, instinctively, he reached for his. Just like old times, he reminisced.

The crime scene photographer looked up at them more confused than impressed as they held out their credentials.

“I’m Special Agent Dana Scully and this is Special Agent Fox Mulder.”

“Detective,” he called. Mulder got the distinct feeling that he wasn’t on board with the FBI’s presence at the crime scene. Or, maybe, he wasn’t okay with their tardiness.

The detective introduced himself and stated his intent for their presence in this investigation. Mulder thought it best to let his wife handle the situation. Scully was a lot better at peopling than he was. It had always been that way.

Semi-listening, he knelt down to observe a glob of blood with the photographer, ignoring the vibrating phone in his pocket.

“His head is in the trash can here,” the detective said.

“Not even in the proper recycling bin,” Mulder couldn’t help but to quip.

“Both arms are gone, too,” the detective continued as Scully grabbed a pair of latex gloves and went to a piece of the body. “Must have been a sword or a machete.”

Mulder, for his part, couldn’t help but to peek in the trash can. Yeah. That was gruesome.

Scully spouted off some doctor-babble, as Will often called it — and, although he’d never admit it, Mulder agreed with the sentiment. Mulder’s phone vibrated again as he studied the picture painted on the billboard outside the office building.

It was then that he heard Scully’s phone vibrate. He checked his phone, realizing that it might actually be something important, and found two missed calls and a text from William.

_Would one of you answer your phones??_

The phone vibrated again.

_Preferably Mom._

And, again.

_No offense, Dad._

Mulder frowned and looked at Scully. The look on her face told him that she saw the same messages.

Mulder exhaled. “I got it.” Scully nodded and Mulder faced the detective. “Excuse me. This is my son.”

The phone barely rang once before Will answered.

“It’s about damn time!” he admonished, clearly upset.

“Will, what’s wrong?”

“Are you with Mom?”

“Yes?” Mulder replied, knowing that Will knew that. “We’re at a crime scene, Will.”

“Put her on anyway,” Will retorted in a no-bullshit tone of voice that made his father slightly anxious. “This is actually important, as denoted by the several phone calls, texts, and voicemails I’ve made, sent, and left in the last twenty minutes. Your voicemail sucks, by the way. You should change that.”

Mulder rolled his eyes and looked up to see Scully answer her phone.

“Hang on a sec, Will,” he said.

“This isn’t a ‘hang on a sec’ moment! This is serious.”

“Let me call you back,” Mulder said.

“Dad-!” was the last thing he heard before walking over to Scully.

“Scully?”

“That was, uh, that was my brother,” she replied, seeming somewhat dazed. “He just… Matthew called him. My mom’s just had a heart attack. She’s in the ICU in D.C.”

It suddenly hit Mulder what Will had been trying to reach them about and the feeling made him sick. He reached for Scully and gently grabbed her arm.

“Go,” he said.

“Will-?” She began.

“I know. I’ll call him,” he replied softly. “Go.”

Mulder watched as Scully left the room. It was then that he noticed the security camera.

“Is everything okay?” the detective asked.

Mulder sighed. “My mother-in-law.”

“Do you…?”

“Not yet,” he replied, knowing that his wife needed some time on her own before it was okay for him to be there for her. “But, I might.”

“Just let me know,” the detective replied, seeming to grasp the seriousness of the situation. “I know it’s not easy to be in this kind of job and have a family.”

That was an understatement, Mulder mused silently.

* * *

Scully entered the ICU wing to find William sitting in the waiting area, the hood of his worn, rust-colored hoodie pulled over his head. He was leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his hands cradling the top of his head.

“Will?”

He jerked to face her before pulling back his hood and standing up. “Mom.”

Scully pulled him into a tight hug.

“They-they won’t let me in; um, I got kicked out. They won’t tell me anything…”

“It’s okay,” she replied, running a hand through his hair. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. We were talking and I went to the bathroom and when I came back…” the helpless look on his face made him look like a little boy again. “I couldn’t get in touch with anyone so I called Matt. I figured he might be able to get in touch with his parents.”

“You did the right thing,” she said, reassuringly. “Where is she?”

“Through here,” he said, leading the way to her mother’s ICU.

* * *

Will swallowed hard when they entered his grandmother’s ICU. The sight of her made nauseated him. He didn’t want to see her like this: attached to all kinds of tubes and monitors. Especially when they’d been having such a good conversation just a few minutes before it happened.

He glanced to his mother. She looked like one wrong move might actually break her. Will couldn’t help but to squeeze her hand.

“I’ll be in the hall,” he whispered. His mother didn’t respond. Will told himself that it was shock. He’d been in the same position a few hours ago.

With one last glance at his mother and grandmother, he went back into the hall.

* * *

“Are you related to Margaret?”

Scully looked up to see a nurse staring at her.

“Yes. I’m her daughter. Um, Dana Scully. My son, Will, came with her.”

The nurse nodded as though she’d dealt with Will and glanced to the door. “I haven’t seen him move from his spot out there since she was brought in.” She paused briefly and added, “She regained consciousness for a few moments. She repeatedly asked for someone named Charlie.”

Scully was stunned for a moment  before she explained, “Charlie’s my brother. Her youngest son. They’re estranged.”

The nurse’s eyes widened. “I thought you’d want to know.”

“She didn’t ask for me or Bill or-or her grandchildren?”

The nurse shook her head with a sympathetic look on her face. “Just Charlie.”

After another sympathetic look, the nurse walked away, leaving Scully alone with her mother.

Scully struggled to process the nurse’s words. Finally, she faced her mother.

“Hi, Mom,” she whispered. “It’s me. Dana. I’m here. I’ve been where you are. I know that Ahab is there… and Melissa.” She paused, silently searching for the right words that might bring her mother back. “Mom, I’m here. And, Bill, Jr. And, William’s here.” Suddenly, it dawned on her what Will had experienced. “William’s here.” She sniffed and added, “And, Charlie’s here.” Scully exhaled a shaky break. “Please, Mom, don’t go home, yet. I need you.”

* * *

Will fought back tears as he watched from the doorway. He had never experienced this version of his mother before and he never wanted to see it again. Although, something told him that this was far from over.

He exhaled a shaky breath, unable to stand it any longer and stepped back into the hall, checking his watch and fighting the urge to call his dad for back up.

With a sigh, Will flopped back onto the uncomfortable furniture and sighed as he searched the playlists on his phone, trying to decide which one fit his mood.


	35. Broken Hallelujah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home Again, pt. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double-whammy in posting because I've been super sick all week.
> 
> Apologies for any typos that I might have missed. I'll go over all of the Home Again chapters one more time later. For now, I need to step away from the screen. Been editing too long.

Scully absently played with the cross around her neck, her mind trapped in the time she’d been in a coma. To the present, she would swear that it was Mulder’s beliefs that brought her back from that place she knew her mother was; that place between. That was the best way she could describe it. While she couldn’t exactly recall the place itself, she remembered her father being there. If her father had been there with her, he would be there with her mother. As would Melissa.

God, what she wouldn’t give to have Melissa with her right now. There were so many things Scully wished she could have experienced with Missy. She wished Missy could’ve met William and Matthew. Hell, she wished Missy could’ve seen that she’d been right about Mulder.

She really wished she’d had her sister to talk to during the period that led to she and Mulder’s separation. Scully wished she could’ve heard William play the piano. Even once.

Missy would’ve loved William, she thought. They shared a similar sense of sarcasm. Although, William would’ve considered his aunt a hippie, Scully had no doubt that the two of them had been close.

Even Charlie. There were a lot of ways that Will reminded her of Charlie from when they were growing up. In all honesty, Scully hadn’t considered it until Will was ten or eleven and her mother had brought it up. Now, there were times when that was all she could see. Charlie, like Melissa, would like his brother-in-law, too. God, Mulder and Charlie would get along if they ever had the opportunity to meet. They were both rebellious in their own way, in a juvenile way most of the time.

Unsure of what exactly ripped her from her reverie, Scully caught sight of the envelope containing her mother’s personal items. Curious, she opened it. A necklace and her mother's wedding rings fell into her palm. On the chain was the most curious quarter.

Why a quarter?

Before she could question it further, her phone rang.

Hoping it would be her husband, she grabbed the phone. It was her brother. The one who was _actually_ around.

* * *

Will entered the room, carrying two cups of coffee. One for himself and one for his mother. She hadn’t left his grandmother’s side in hours.

He hung back when he realized that she was on the phone. Will knew that tone of voice. She was talking to one of two people: his uncle or his father. For as much as he hated to admit it, it didn’t quite sound like a conversation that she would be having with his father.

His suspicions were confirmed when she dropped his uncle’s name.

Will took a sip of his coffee while he waited for his mom to finish her phone call. It took a little longer than he’d expected, but when she set the phone down with a sigh, he saw his opening.

“Hey,” he greeted quietly.

“Hey.” She sounded as exhausted as he was.

“Here.” Will held out the cup of coffee. “Thought you could use it.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” she replied, accepting the beverage and placing a kiss on his cheek.

After a quick moment, he pointed to his grandmother and asked, “How is she?”

It was her sigh that gave it away. His grandmother, most likely, wasn’t going to make it.

“Will, have you seen this before?” his mom asked, reaching for something on the small table. He knew what she was doing: avoiding answering the question; protecting him from something over which she held no power. Will wasn’t sure if he was grateful or hurt by blatant lack of honesty.

“What?” She handed a necklace to him. “Her necklace?”

“The quarter. What is it?”

Will studied the quarter for a moment, trying to figure out if and when he’d seen it. Coming up empty, he handed the necklace back, “I have no idea.”

His mom nodded, defeated. Will knew that this was going to bother her far more than it should.

“You hungry?” she asked. “I haven’t seen you eat since I got here.”

“I’m fine,” he replied. Will’s stomach growled in disagreement and he rolled his eyes. “Maybe, I could use a snack…”

He watched as his mother dug in her purse before handing some cash to him. “Go to the cafeteria and get something to eat.”

“Mom –,” he began to protest but the look she shot his way shut him up fast. He sighed and nodded. “Do you want me to bring you anything?”

“I’m okay.”

He arched an eyebrow and she smiled in return. “I’m fine, William.”

“You know I don’t believe you, right?”

“Go eat something.”

He let out another sigh and nodded before obeying his mother.

* * *

Will sat alone at a table in the cafeteria, staring at the untold wonders of his coffee cup. It was shitty coffee, truth be told. He knew he was supposed to be eating, but he wasn’t sure that his stomach could really handle anything.

He glanced to his phone, sitting face down on the table.  With a sigh, he picked it up and called his dad.

“Will?” his father answered with more concern than Will could recall hearing in his voice in a _long_ time. “What’s wrong?”

“I, uh… I think, I think you should get here, if you’re not already on your way,” he said quietly, ruefully. “It’s not good, Dad.”

“I’m in the parking garage,” his father replied. There was a softness to his tone that was usually only reserved for his mother.

“In Philly or D.C.?”

“I’m at the hospital. Where are you?”

“Cafeteria.” He paused before adding, “Mom kind of forced me.”

“I’ll meet you in a few minutes.”

“Okay,” Will replied hardly above a whisper before hanging up with his father.

* * *

Mulder looked around the cafeteria for Will before finally spotting him. The hood pulled over his head like a piece of armor should have been his first indication. With a sigh, he made his way to his son and sat down across from him.

“How’s she doing?”

“Mom or Grandma?”

“Both.”

“It’s not good, Dad. I don’t think Grandma has much time left and I think Mom’s in denial. It’s gonna be a shitstorm.”

Mulder nodded, but kept his gaze on his child. “How are _you_?”

“I called 911,” came the quiet response. It hit Mulder like a wrecking ball. Will was the one to find her.

“William,” Mulder said, firmly but not unkindly. Will didn’t look up from his coffee cup. “William, look at me.” His son obeyed, tears shining in his eyes. “This is _not_ your fault.” Will’s jaw muscles flexed wildly as he gritted his teeth in response. Mulder suspected that he was willing himself not to cry. “Will, it’s not-.” Will broke and Mulder moved quickly to wrap his arms around his son for the first time in he didn’t know how long, letting the boy weep into his shoulder. 

* * *

Scully’s phone vibrating caught her attention. Grateful for the distraction, she picked it up. Mulder’s name was on the screen.

“Yeah?” she asked, weakly.

“I’m here,” was all he said. She looked back at the door, only half-surprised to find that he was standing there. It took a moment to realize that Will had probably met him downstairs and brought him up.

Relief washed over her as they made eye contact through the window of the door. Scully wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that before they were hanging up. She faced the doctor sitting before her again and said, “My husband just got here…”

The doctor seemed to understand, nodding as she rose from her seat.

Scully made her way out into the hall to talk to Mulder.

“Hey,” he said, pulling her to his chest. Instinctively, her arms wrapped around his abdomen and she rested her head against his chest, hiding in his arms for a bit.

There was no telling how long they stayed that way before he said, “Sorry it took me so long.”

As if coming to her senses, she pulled away. Mulder, for his part, seemed reluctant to let her go, leading her like he used to the bench.

“I took Will back to your house and ordered take out for him,” he said, softly.

Scully smiled weakly. “He’s been trying to be so strong,” she mused.

Her husband chuckled. “He _is_ strong, Scully. Gets that from you.”

“Mulder…”

“I’m serious.”

“Did he talk to you?” she asked. “About…”

“Yeah,” he said, as though reading her mind. “He did. He’s upset. I thought it’d be better if he was with his piano and his dog.”

“Thank you.”

Mulder pressed a kiss to her temple and left his arm draped over the back of the bench.

“How’s the case?”

* * *

Mulder eyed her for a moment before diving into the details of the artwork and Trashman. He could tell she wasn’t really listening. He didn’t really want her to anyway. She was dealing with enough without adding a case to it.

He paused, realizing what he had to tell her. He had to get back to Philadelphia. It was a sick joke, really; knowing he had to stop a murderer while he should be with his wife and son, keeping the vigil for his dying mother-in-law.

“I would stay, but I suspect the subject will kill again.” The words tasted horrible coming out of his mouth. Scully didn’t really seem to be paying attention as she nodded absently.

“She asked for Charlie, before she into the coma,” Scully whispered.

“Your brother?”

“Yeah. Just him. Not Bill or me or… I don’t even know where he is. He hasn’t bothered with her or us for years. Why would she do that?” she asked. Mulder simply shook his head, not knowing what to say. “And, why would she change her living will without talking to me?”

Mulder leaned back, taking a deep breath; bracing himself. Will was right. It was about to be a shitstorm for all three of them.

“And, what’s this?” Scully continued. “I’ve never seen her wear it.” Mulder took the necklace from her hand to look over it. Maybe, he could give her, at the very least, one answer. “The-the-the date has no significance. It’s not any of our birthdays. It’s not Dad’s death or Melissa’s. I mean, what is it about that quarter that she would frame it to put it around her neck?”

God, Mulder wished he had some kind of answer for her. Before he could say anything at all, something in her mother’s room caught Scully’s attention and Mulder realized the medical staff were getting ready to extubate Maggie. He followed his wife, catching her arm gently before she could stop them.

He pulled her back to his chest and held her there, watching with her as the tragedy continued to unfold.

“I don’t care about the big questions right now, Mulder,” she said, her voice quivering. “I just want one more chance to ask my mom a few little ones.”

That did it. Philadelphia could wait. His family needed him right now and they were far more important to him.


	36. Languorous Tide Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home Again, pt. 4

Will paced around the house anxiously, checking his phone every couple of minutes for the update his father had promised to provide. He understood, and could even appreciate, his dad’s rationale in sending Will home for a while to relax, eat, or whatever-the-hell-else he was supposed to do in a situation like this. In retrospect, he should have known it wouldn’t have made much of a difference.

He couldn’t focus on anything. If Will was being totally honest, being home was almost worse. Although, he loved the dog, Daggoo seemed to pick up on his anxiety and only wanted to sit on his feet or curl up in Will’s lap – which, under normal circumstances, he would’ve been perfectly fine with; but, as anxious as he was right now, Will just needed to move. He needed to do _something_. He was going crazy.

Will glanced to his piano. The void would be nice right now, he mused silently, but the void was typically reserved for when the beast inside of him was ready to pounce. Right now, the beast just seemed annoyed. He could live with that; he could control himself with that. For once, Will opted to forego the piano. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything, anyway.

He let out a sigh and made his way into the kitchen where the Chinese takeout containers still sat, untouched, on the counter. Will glanced to the cabinet but, decided to forego the plate. This was a eat-it-from-the-box situation. He grabbed a drink from the fridge and forced himself to eat.

* * *

Mulder watched Scully from the other side of Maggie’s bed. She had a look on her face that he hadn’t seen in quite some time. She was a million miles away and he didn’t have the heart to break her concentration.

He wondered if he should text Will and let him know that there was no change of any kind. Mulder knew his son well enough to know that the teenager was probably freaking out. Will probably wasn’t happy with being taken home – the drive had been made in silence – but, Will didn’t need to be here waiting for the inevitable and he certainly didn’t need to see it happen. He carried enough guilt over the situation. Although the guilt was certainly misplaced, Mulder knew his son well enough to know that he was wondering things like: what if he’d gotten there just a few seconds sooner or what if he had gotten there before she collapsed?

Will had no control over these things and Mulder hated that his son was, likely, thinking them. He’d said as much in the cafeteria and a couple of hours wouldn’t have a made a difference in the boy’s mindset. Will took on the weight of everyone else’s problems and shouldered them until he could fix it or they broke him. Except, this could neither be controlled nor fixed. Mulder knew that, deep down, Will knew that, too. He just wished his son would realize it.

“Back in the day,” Scully began, tearing her husband from his reverie, “did we ever come across the ability to just… _wish_ someone back to life?”

Mulder studied her for the quickest of seconds before replying what felt like a confession, “I invented it… when you were in the hospital.” She gave him a look that clearly showed her intrigue as he continued, “Like this.”

“You’re a dark wizard, Mulder.”

He’d never heard that one from her before…

“What else is new?” he retorted with a laugh. She stared at him for a moment with a look that he’d missed seeing from her. Before he could say anything else, her phone was vibrating on the small table beside her. Mulder watched Scully carefully, wondering for a moment if it was Will. If the caller _wasn’t_ Will, Mulder figured he should at least send the boy a text message. Nothing new had happened, but Will should probably know that much to put his mind at ease.

“Charlie,” Scully greeted. She sounded pleased to hear from her baby brother, but Mulder couldn’t help but to feel protective. Charlie Scully hadn’t been around in years and, even when he was, Mulder hadn’t met his youngest brother-in-law. “Did Bill call you?” She paused, listening. “Um, Mom asked for you.” She said it in a tone that broke her husband’s heart, made him want to drag Charlie there kicking and screaming if he had to. Suddenly, her tone changed. She sounded defensive as she implored her brother to speak to their mother.

Was it programmed into the male Scully DNA to be an asshole?

Somehow, though, Scully had managed to convince her brother to say something. Now, at the very least, Mulder knew what the younger man sounded like.

“Okay,” Scully finally said. “I’ll put it on speakerphone.”

Mulder rose from his seat when his mother-in-law opened. Pure shock coursing though him.

“Do you know where you are?” He asked her while Scully dealt with her brother. “Do you know your name?”

She reached for his hand and Scully flashed a stunned smile to him. Mulder, too, couldn’t help but to smile.

“My son is named William, too,” she said.

He met Scully’s eyes, hoping she would know what that meant. Perhaps, that she was happy to see he and Will coming back together, that their family was slowly working its way into a single unit again? Or, maybe -?

Suddenly, Mulder’s heart sank. He watched helplessly as the life faded from Margaret Scully’s eyes. After a moment, he began to walk around to the other side of the bed to console his wife, but he stopped in his tracks. William stood several feet away, eyes wide, face pale.

He saw the whole thing.

“Will…” Mulder began.

* * *

Will watched as his mother rose from his grandmother’s side. Her cheeks were wet with tears.

“William,” she said quietly, motioning him to her. Will couldn’t move. “It’s okay,” she prompted.

He opened his mouth to protest that it wasn’t okay because she was dead, but no sound came out. His own body felt heavy, as though it was made of stone instead of flesh.

“Will?” His dad asked, a concerned expression on his face. His father glanced to his mother and then back at him as though he didn’t know which of them to go to their son first.

Wordlessly, Will sunk to the ground and drew his knees to his chest. Before he knew what was happening, his parents were kneeling on either side of him.

“Will?” His dad said. “William.”

“Mulder, I think he’s in shock,” he heard his mother say.

“I’m fine,” he whispered. Pushing himself off the ground, he said, “I-I need some air.”

* * *

Scully had to get out of the city. That was all she knew; all she could say. She needed to focus on something else — _anything_ else — right now. She needed to get away.

What she hadn’t expected was to see her son staring out a window just around the corner from the ICU wing.

“William?” Scully whispered, walking slowly to him, afraid of startling him. He shut his eyes and a tear rolled down his cheek. She exhaled a heavy breath and wrapped her arms around him. His one tear turned into a river of them. “It’s okay,” she soothed as he laid his head on her shoulder.

He hugged her tightly as he wept. She, too, was no match for the tears.

Scully glanced up to see Mulder walking toward them slowly; like he was prolonging his trek for their sake. By the time her husband joined them, she and William had parted. Scully reached up to wipe the tears from his cheeks.

“What happens now?” Will asked, finally being the one to break the silence.

“We’re going to Philadelphia,” she replied. “We have some work to do, but you can do some sight-seeing while we’re working.”

Will scoffed. “What about Daggoo? I can’t leave him overnight.”

“We won’t be gone overnight,” Mulder said firmly; although, not unkind. Scully looked at him, his closeness barely registering despite that his hand was in its proper place on the small of her back. His eyes were sympathetic, but firm. It suddenly dawned on her that this was hurting him, too.

Mulder had always loved her mother. Her mother loved him. Scully let out a sigh and allowed herself to lean into him. He, in turn, wrapped both arms around her.

“Can we stop by the house first?” Will asked quietly after a couple of minutes. “I need to grab a few things and take Daggoo out again.”

“Yeah,” her husband answered for her. “We’ll stop on the way.”

Scully knew exactly what Mulder was doing. Oddly, she couldn’t even be mad at him for it. He’d tried to convince her not to go back to Philly but she was determined to do just that. She needed the distraction. This was his compromise, she thought. For as irritating as it was given the situation, she loved him for what he was trying to do.

* * *

The drive to Philadelphia was spent in near silence – save for the occasional sound of Will snacking on the trail mix he’d been so proud of making a couple of days ago. Mulder glanced to Scully in the passenger seat. She was staring absently out the window. The rearview mirror revealed Will sitting directly behind his mother doing the exact same thing, his earbuds dutifully in his ears.

Mulder gripped the wheel harder to keep from disturbing the reveries of his family. He would give anything to be able to protect them from the pain Maggie’s death brought. But, there was nothing he could do. He, too, was hurting over this.

For whatever reason, he returned his gaze to the rearview mirror for once last glance at his son. This time, he was met by Will’s knowing gaze. It took Mulder by surprise for a minute. Before he could say anything, Will returned his focus to the world outside the vehicle


	37. Time Won't Turn Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> post-Home Again (sort of).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm labeling this as post-home again because I didn't plan to get into the case nor Will's adventure in Philly. But, it does take place before the funeral scene.

The whistling of the tea kettle caught Mulder’s attention. He rose from his spot at the table to prepare their tea, leaving Scully to momentarily pore through the photo albums spread across the table in her quest for the “right” pictures for the funeral. Will opted to just go upstairs and hadn’t been seen since. Mulder knew that his son wasn’t sleeping, despite the lack of music bleeding through to the downstairs. Part of him wondered if he should check on the teenager, but opted against it when he heard Scully chuckle ruefully.

He placed a mug within her grasp and returned to his seat at her side.

“What is it?” he asked, softly. Scully pushed the photo album toward Mulder, tapping the particular picture by which she’d been amused, with a sad smile on her lips.

It was a picture of a tiny Will – no more than two years old – and Maggie. He was sitting in her lap, clutching a plush walrus. Maggie was looking down at her grandson with nothing but love and Will, in turn, was looking up at her with something akin to the two-year-old version of admiration.

Admittedly, it was a fantastic picture and Mulder hadn’t known it existed. Will and Maggie had always had a special relationship. Mulder had always loved observing it.

Sometimes, it made him think about his own mother. He wondered what his son’s relationship would’ve been like with her. Habitual fighting aside, Will would have been the Mulder family’s saving grace, the epitome of what Bill and Teena Mulder had wanted in their offspring. Will was clean cut, well-dressed, well-read, and he was a skilled pianist; certainly someone his parents would’ve been happy to show off to their friends.

Mulder could just imagine it:

_“My William attends a conservatory,” his mother would say, beaming with pride. “No, June, he’s nothing like his father; far more dignified.”_

_And, she would be right. In a way, Will was nothing like him and every bit like Scully. Mulder, for his part, would roll his eyes and sulk in a corner. Scully, the beautiful love of his life, would roll her eyes, smirk, and probably go with him in some misguided solidarity. She’d wrap her arms around his torso – and he, in turn, would wrap his arms around her waist – and she look up at him with that amused look in her eye that always told him when he was being childish. Then, she’d whisper that she loved him, and he’d be okay after that. New England high society be damned: Mulder had Scully._

_“William, darling,” Teena would prompt because, God-forbid she refer to the boy by the name he preferred, “play something for us.”_

_Will, being ever respectful toward his grandparents – if his relationship with Maggie was any indication – would nod politely and say, “Yes, ma’am” before sitting at a ridiculously overpriced piano that his grandmother would no doubt purchase in order to show off her grandson. He’d play some classical piece that only Mulder’s mother and her friends would appreciate._

_They would all stand, impressed and wowed by Will’s talent while Mulder silently mocked them from the corner as he held his Scully in his arms._

“Mulder?”

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?” Scully asked.

“Yeah,” he replied, covering her hand with his own as he said, “I’m just thinking.” He flashed a rueful smile and added, “I like that picture.”

“Me, too,” she replied.

Mulder wondered if his father would approve of Will. Surely, he would. Will was strong and he’d do whatever was expected of him; and, he do it without argument.

Good ol’ Bill Mulder would probably teach him to drink scotch like a man as he instilled a sense of duty in his grandson. Will would learn the lessons obediently.

His father would tell Will that if he had to fight, he’d better make sure to win. Will would smirk and say that winning was all that mattered. They would bond over that.

Mulder shuddered at the thought. He was glad William didn’t have to live up to that pressure. His mother’s societal standing, Mulder could handle where his only child was concerned; but, his father’s? No. Mulder would not stand for that.

“What are you thinking?” Scully asked, ripping him from his reverie.

Mulder let out sigh. “I was thinking about Will and how close he was to your mom.” He swallowed. “Is he okay? He’s barely spoken to me.”

Scully sighed. “He hasn’t said much to me, either. I think he’s processing.”

They stared at each other for a moment before Scully broke the silence and the tension that neither of them had realized was there.

“I’m going to check on him.”

Mulder released her hand and nodded. He knew she needed to do it. There was a look in her eye that he didn’t know and, whatever it meant, he wasn’t about to press his luck. Not this time.

* * *

Scully exhaled a shaky breath when she reached the top of the stairs. She wasn’t entirely sure what was happening between Mulder and herself downstairs, but all of a sudden she was panicking. Maybe, it was being back in their home, with their son upstairs doing whatever he was doing while she and her husband took a trip down memory lane with the help of visual aids.

She made her way to Will’s room. His door was cracked open and she was able to see him lying atop the comforter on his bed, still dressed, with his ear buds in his ears, staring at the ceiling. She really wasn’t surprised to find him lost in thought.

Scully knocked lightly on the door and he glanced to her before returning his gaze to the ceiling.

“Hey,” Scully greeted softly, making her way toward him.

“Hey,” Will replied as she laid beside him on the bed.

“How are you?”

Will let out a sigh. “I don’t know,” he confessed. “I know there’s nothing that I could’ve done. I mean, it was a heart attack, I can’t control that…”

“But, you were there,” she finished for him with a motherly sympathy.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I guess, I’m just trying to figure out what happens now. I mean, there’s the funeral and all but, after that? What are we supposed to do?” He exhaled a heavy breath that let Scully know he wasn’t finished. After a moment, he continued, “I know we keep living, move on, but it sucks. She was a person. What do we do on Sundays now? I had a good relationship with her, so I have no regrets but, at the same time, I wish we could’ve finished our conversation; looked at those pictures we were talking about. We’ll never have that moment and it’s all I can think about.”

Scully’s eyes stung as he gave his heartfelt confession. She wasn’t entirely sure what to say. She hadn’t really begun to process it, either. That didn’t make the pain any less real, though.

“You can always talk to me about it,” she offered, not knowing if he would take her up on the offer. It wasn’t the same, but he could get it out if he needed to. “Or, you can still talk to her at -.”

“I don’t want to talk to a headstone,” he interjected. “That’s pointless.”

Scully fought the urge to tell him that it could be cathartic, but she knew he needed to grieve in his own way and that his way would be different from her way or his father’s.

“I’m just saying,” she continued, “that if you need that moment, I’m here – or, you can talk to Dad. Or, we can call Dr. Hadley.”

Will exhaled another sigh. “I know what you’re trying to do. And, I appreciate it. I just don’t think I’m there, yet.”

“It’s okay,” she replied and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Take your time, Will. There’s no wrong way to process this. Okay?”

“You sound like Dr. Jake…”

Scully laughed and Will grinned.

There was a moment of silence before she asked, “What pictures? Maybe, I can find them for you.”

A smirk formed on his lips and an obnoxious look shone in his eyes as he said, “Something about you with dyed hair and a leather jacket.”

Scully groaned and Will laughed. Her mother had told him, she concluded.

“I hear you were quite the hellion.”

“William,” she groaned and he laughed again.

“It’s _true_?” He asked, feigning shock. “My mother was a rebel?”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” She mocked.

“Not for the rest of my life.”

They laid on Will’s bed in silence for several, long minutes before Scully spoke up again.

“What do you think about getting out of the city for a few days after the funeral, once everyone leaves?”

“I suppose that depends,” Will replied in a tone that was a perfect emulation of one his father would’ve used when they were in their thirties.

“On…?”

“Your definition of getting out of the city. If you’re talking about spending a weekend at Dad’s, it doesn’t count. We do that anyway anymore. If you’re talking about an actual trip, that’s thought-worthy.”

“Where would you want to go?”

Will exhaled a heavy breath and said, “I don’t know. The surrounding area is pretty depressing right now.” He thought for a moment before saying, “Missouri.”

“What’s in Missouri?” Scully asked, completely taken back by his seemingly random suggestion.

“Exactly.”

She huffed a laugh. “What about New Mexico?”

“Hard pass. Dad would end up dragging us to Roswell.”

“Florida?”

“Pass.”

“New Orleans? You’ve mentioned wanting to visit there.”

“Doesn’t going to a city defeat the purpose of getting out of the city?” He retorted.

Point: Will.

Scully rolled off the bed, chuckling. “Be thinking about it,” she said. “We’ll figure something out and take a trip for a few days.”

“The two of us or the three of us?” He asked in a tone she didn’t know.

“What do you prefer?” She replied carefully.

He shrugged. “Just seems like you guys are, I don’t know… something I can’t figure out. I’m not opposed to either one.”

Scully felt her eyes widen. It was a big step for him. Bringing Mulder on their trip was definitely something she’d have to consider.

“Are you okay with the way things are going?”

Will met her gaze. He hesitated before saying, “Let’s just say, I’m not keen to rush into anything. But…” he paused before continuing, “but, you guys seem happier than I’ve seen you in a long time. That counts for something.”

Scully nodded, processing his statement before making her way back downstairs.

When she got there, Mulder was still sitting at the table studying their history. She watched him for a moment, wondering what was going through his head. Scully though about what Will said about them seeming happier than they’d been in a long time.

If she was being honest with herself, she _was_ happier – present situation notwithstanding. She was, by no means, ready to move them back in but, they _had_ been staying with Mulder over the weekend. A couple of times, she’d even woken up on the couch, cuddled into Mulder as he held her. Granted, they’d also fallen asleep watching a movie and Will had been passed out on the floor. Still, it wasn’t an unpleasant way to wake up.

“You okay, Scully?” Mulder asked softly, running his strong hands gently down her arms. She hadn’t realized that he’d gotten up from what he was doing, let alone moved to stand right in front of her.

“I will be,” she sighed in response, allowing him to pull her to his chest. She wrapped her arms around his abdomen.

“How’s Will?”

“He’s trying to process everything, but he’ll be okay.”

Mulder didn’t say anything in response. Instead, he held her securely in his arms and she let him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was much longer so I split it up. There's one more -- including the weekend away and then we'll keep moving on. I'll be skipping "Babylon" for the most part (because it sucks) with just some references to acknowledge that, even though it sucked, it happened.


	38. The Pros and Cons of Upsetting the Applecart

The sun peeked through the curtains as Scully slowly came out of her aid-induced sleep. She felt like she could sleep another several hours. Truth be told, if her brother and his family hadn’t been coming in, she would do just that. But, there was still so much to do before they arrived.

Not to mention, preparation for the funeral tomorrow.

The funeral.

This was all happening way too fast. She wasn’t ready for this. Not even a little bit, despite the part of her that just wanted it to be over. But, losing her mother wasn’t just something on which she could put a band aid. Scully knew that it hadn’t really hit her yet and that’s what she was afraid of.

Mulder, bless him, was being incredible – far surpassing her expectations. He was giving her the space she needed to make decisions and stay occupied, but he knew exactly when she needed him to step in.

Scully was suddenly aware that she wasn’t alone. Nor was she at her house in the city.

She wracked her brain in an attempt to figure out exactly what had happened. Scully remembered going through photographs with Mulder, laughing at some; crying over others. At some point, they’d gone upstairs and laid in bed, exchanging stories.

They must’ve fallen asleep, Scully concluded. His arm was draped over her and she could feel his steady breath on her neck. Part of her was panicking and the other part of her was relishing in it. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed waking up like this; waking in the arms of the man she loved.

William was right: the present state of their relationship was a dichotomy. In some ways, things were going better than they had since they’d gotten married – they were far more communicative than they’d ever been, Mulder was more silently attentive than he’d been in years; she was more patient than she’d been in years. Therapy was certainly helping and she wondered why that hadn’t started going years ago, why she’d let it get so bad before begging for that type of help.

On the other hand, they still had so far to go before she was comfortable with the idea of coming home. Scully would never belittle Mulder’s efforts in his attempt to restore their family or fix their marriage. He was taking strides that he never would have taken even five years ago. Yet, there was still so much they needed to work through before she could trust that they wouldn’t just end up drowning again. There was no way she could take it if it got like that again and she certainly wasn’t about to put William through it.

Scully was in no way placing all the blame on her husband. She, too, had a role in their problems and could own up to that. They needed to fix themselves before coming together as a unit again. That was the part that Mulder didn’t seem to understand. He always had the look in his eyes when they were together; the one where he wanted to ask her to come home, but was scared of pushing her away. She knew that look well. He’d had it several times over the years and in different situations.

Scully was thankful that he hadn’t asked, yet. She knew she’d broken his heart when she left. She hated herself for that; but it was what _needed_ to happen. William couldn’t keep going through it; she couldn’t keep going through it; and, even if he couldn’t see it at the time, neither could Mulder. It was killing all three of them. She couldn’t allow it to continue happening if they had any hope of surviving it.

She still had to talk to Mulder about going away with she and William for a weekend. Although, she should probably wait until they decided where they were going to go for their quiet escape.

Quietly and carefully, Scully extracted herself from her husband’s embrace and made her way to the shower before proceeding downstairs.

When she got there, Will was sitting at the kitchen table, a book in his hand, and coffee in front of him. He didn’t seem to notice her when he reached for his mug without glancing away from the book. He must have been up awhile, she mused. He was dressed in a black t-shirt and his hair was styled just so: the front laying to the left, looking like he’d hijacked her straightener again and the back and part of the top spiked up. She didn’t understand the hair cut, but it suited him.

“You can come in here, you know,” he said quietly as he marked his book and set it to the side.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” she confessed.

“I heard you come down the stairs,” he replied simply.

Scully entered the kitchen and made her way to the counter. “Hungry?” She asked.

“I could eat.” With a shrug he added, “I’m not sure Dad has anything but those nasty pop tarts that he likes, though.”

Scully hid a smirk and went to the fridge.

* * *

Progress.

They’d certainly made progress since Scully had left, taking Will with her, and giving Mulder the wake-up call that he’d needed. They were in and out of therapy as cases allowed since they had rejoined the FBI. In the last year, they’d stopped going to Will’s athletic events as he’d quit for reasons that were still entirely known to only him, but they’d attended four piano recitals.

Will was still frequently fighting, but at least he’d started attending class more frequently. Last night, while they were talking about their son, they’d agreed that while they didn’t condone the violence, they would take and deal with it rather than face any worse option. And, knowing their son, there could certainly be a worse option.

Things between Mulder and Will we’re still rocky – more so than Mulder’s relationship with his wife, but they were talking and he’d taken to calling him “Dad” more than calling him “Fox.” Mulder would certainly take that.

Things with Scully were improving, too. While he wasn’t sure if they were officially back together, a lot of the time, it felt like it. Every now and then, she would stay the night after one of their movie nights. Slowly, some of her things were returning to their places in the house, in their _home_.

Admittedly, Mulder hadn’t known it would take this long. He hadn’t expected it to happen overnight. He’d loved the woman for way too long to expect something so foolish. But, he’d hoped that after a few therapy sessions, it would start. Fox Mulder never was a patient man.

Still, he refused to take any of these steps for granted. He refused to take for granted that his wife was seeking her comfort in the present heartache from him. She could’ve easily turned elsewhere. Mulder refused to take for granted that she was standing in their kitchen again, making breakfast as Will leaned against the counter, coffee mug in hand, and yammered about a topic he’d clearly missed.

One cream. Two sugars.

Just like his mother.

Will still didn’t trust him, though. That was something Mulder was still hard at work in earning. But, he was happy to do it if it meant he got to have this in the morning. Some sense of normalcy seemed to be returning to their lives.

They were all learning, Mulder realized as he watched his family from the entrance of the kitchen. He and Scully were learning how to be partners again, re-learning that dynamic with wiser eyes; learning how to work together, how to be close, to love each other. But, most importantly, they were learning about each other again.

This time, things on the X-Files were incredibly different. This time, he was working with his wife and not a stranger; the mother of his child. The woman he loved and was falling in love with again, but in new ways. They were certainly older than last time. This time, they didn’t run off all over the country chasing monsters and myths and fairy tales. They couldn’t do that because, this time, they had a teenager.

But, there they were in the kitchen, under one roof.

Even though today was going to be rough, Mulder was grateful for this small, although infinitely significant, moment.

“Morning,” he greeted, entering the kitchen.

“Morning,” Scully said, smiling at him.

Mulder fought the urge to wrap his arms around her waist and press a kiss to her cheek — something, he would’ve done before their separation. To keep from enveloping her, he reached for a mug from the cabinet and fixed himself a cup of coffee.

“What time is your brother getting in?”

“Around one,” she replied. “They’re renting a car so I won’t have to pick them up.”

Mulder nodded absently, hesitant to ask what was on the agenda for the day for the sheer fact that he didn’t want to scare off his family. He had to take it slowly, he told himself. Scully couldn’t be rushed.

“Will,” he said, causing the teenager to look up from the untold wonders of the bottom of his coffee mug. “What are your plans today?”

“Piano and, then, hang with Matty,” Will replied with a shrug. "Once they get here, obviously."

Mulder glances to Scully. The look in her eye said she was bracing herself for the same question.

“I’m assuming you want to spend time with your brother,” Mulder said quietly.

“Yeah,” she replied. There was a hint of an apology in her tone that gave him some hope.

Mulder only nodded and sipped his coffee in response.

“I need to run back to my place for awhile,” she continued. “They’re staying in my spare room.”

Mulder looked up, noticing that, for the first time in a long time, she didn’t refer to her place as home. Will must have noticed it to because he silently looked at his mother with a dubious look on his face. The revelation sent a jolt through Mulder. She was further along in the reconciliation thing than he’d originally suspected.

* * *

Will glanced between his parents, not sure how to feel about breakfast. On the one hand, it felt semi-normal for them to be eating breakfast together despite the amount of time that had passed since it happened last. On the other hand, he had no idea what he thought about it nor did he know what to expect from it.

It could mean anything, he mused silently. They were all hurting from the sudden loss of his grandmother. It could be nothing more than comfort in something familiar.

Then again, it could mean a whole hell of a lot of things that Will wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with just yet.

“Are you okay?” his mother asked, her voice penetrating his thoughts.

“I guess that’s relative, isn’t it?” Will replies before taking a bite of his bacon.

“Do you want to talk about it?” his father chimed in.

“Not particularly,” Will replied. He hesitated before saying, “Actually, there _is_ something that I need to talk to you guys about that’s kind of…” That certainly got their attention and he continued, “I know it’s a bad time, but it’s time sensitive.”

“What is it, Will?” His mom asked.

“Um… well… the thing is…” he winced. Why the hell was _this_ of all things so hard to ask? “So, at my last lesson, Genny mentioned that there’s a spot opening up at semester for a full-time student at the conservatory.”

“Okay…” his mother replied cautiously, prompting Will to continue.

“A high school student. I’m, somehow, at the top of the list. Basically, I’d have to switch schools again, but it opens a lot of doors for me. My chances at getting into Juilliard are a lot better. I’d still do some regular school stuff, but it’s focused on the arts so…” he shrugged, not sure how to further plead his case. “I have the packet that she gave me upstairs.”

“That’s amazing, Will,” his dad said, surprising Will with his enthusiasm.

“That’s what Grandma said, too,” he mumbled, hoping they didn’t catch it.

“What would it look like?” His mother asked, with the same cautious tone as before. It felt a bit like she was walking on eggshells, making it hard for Will to decipher his chances of switching schools.

“Well, I’d finish the semester at my school now and then start high school at the conservatory in January. I’d still have to take classes like English, Lit, and that kind of thing. I’d be done with math and my sciences, though. Wouldn’t have to take P.E., either.” He shrugged. “Given how often I run anyway and the fact that I don’t play sports anymore, that’s not an issue. For me, anyway.”

“The fighting?” His father asked.

Will chuckled nervously. “They have a three strikes rule. So, I’d probably have to stop or start doing MMA or something.”

His mother studied him for a moment before saying, “We’ll talk about it. No promises.”

He nodded, unable to hide a grin. That went better than he’d expected. His grandmother had been right.

Who knew?

* * *

Mulder knocked on Scully’s door filled with complete and utter anxiety knowing that his brother-in-law was on the other side of it somewhere. Truth be told, if it hadn’t been on account of Maggie’s coming funeral, he wouldn’t be there. He wanted to see his family, absolutely. He just didn’t want to deal with his Bill.

Things had gotten better between the two of them over the years but they were still far from being friends. Although, Bill’s wife and kids seemed to enjoy his presence. Mulder, however, wasn’t exactly sure how comforting that fact was.

To his relief, Will answered the door.

“Hey,” his son greeted.

“Hey,” Mulder replied.

Will stepped out of the way and gestured for him to enter the house, adding, “It’s insane in here. You’ve been warned.”

Mulder chuckled. “Noted.”

“I’m staying at your place tonight,” his son added to Mulder’s surprise. Not that he would deny his son that. He’d worked way too hard for Will to willingly stay with him of his own volition.

“Sounds good.”

“Matty’s coming, too,” Will added.

“That’s fine with me as long as Bill’s okay with it.”

“Cool.” Will exhaled a heavy breath and said, “Good luck” before disappearing into a crowd of people Mulder didn’t recognize.

Who the hell had Bill brought with them? Christ.

“Mulder,” Scully greeted.

“Hey,” he replied, instinctively pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. She touched his chest gently before leading him deeper into the house.

“Hey, Uncle Fox,” Matt said, a Mountain Dew in each hand.

“Matthew,” Mulder greeted with a grin. “How’s school going?”

“It’s college and I’m a freshman,” Matt replied with a smirk.

“Parties and cutting class?”

“Mulder,” Scully admonished.

“We were all freshman once, Scully,” he retorted. She simply rolled her eyes in return before leaving him alone with their grinning nephew. “So, really, how’s school?”

“I’m really liking it, actually. Being from California, I didn’t really expect to care much for Chicago. The cold and all… but, I do. Northwestern is great.”

“How’s your dad handling a political science major?”

Matt snorted in amusement. “Surprisingly, he’s accepted it. I doubt he’s proud, but I think even he can recognize that it’s a great school.”

“I’m sure he’s proud of you,” Mulder replied, patting the kid on the shoulder. “It’s a big ten school. He’d be stupid not to be.”

“Thanks, Uncle Fox,” Matt replied sheepishly. He looked past Mulder for and said, “Hey, Dad” before walking away, tossing a “I’m gonna find Will” over his shoulder for good measure.”

“Mulder,” Bill greeted, offering a hand.

“Bill,” Mulder returned, accepting the proffered hand.

“Thanks for that,” the other man said awkwardly. “I caught the tail end.”

“No problem.”

They stood in awkward silence for a moment.

“Have you met Charles?” Bill asked.

“Your brother?” Mulder asked in complete surprise. “I didn’t think he really existed.”

Bill frowned. Mulder couldn’t help but to smirk.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter around this because I split this chapter into two -- it was way too long.
> 
> Also, I know everyone portrays Bill as STILL being an asshole, but I think that, after all these years, he would (at the very least) have grown to be civil toward Mulder.


	39. Sing Me To Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final part of the Home Again chapters. Tissue warning. Seriously. Have those tissues ready.
> 
> You've been warned.

“Hey,” Scully greeted when Will entered the room, completely ignoring his prodigal uncle.

“How’s it going?” Charlie greeted.

Will arched a skeptical eyebrow and said, “Fine.” He glanced to his mother before making his way to the fridge. “I’m going to Dad’s after dinner.”

“Why?” Scully asked, surprised that Mulder had been there for nearly three hours and this was the first she was hearing of it.

“Too many people. I gotta practice at some point since I probably won’t be able to concentrate tomorrow.” He shrugged. “Matty’s staying with us, too.”

“Does Bill know?”

“Yeah, he’s cool with it.”

Scully felt her eyes narrow in suspicion. “He is?”

“Why wouldn’t he be? Matty can vote and be drafted. He can stay at Dad’s if he wants to stay at Dad’s.”

With that, he walked out of the kitchen, snack in hand.

Charlie faced his sister. “I didn’t realize you were divorced. There I was making nice with the guy.”

“We’re separated; not divorced,” Scully retorted.

“Well, he’s breathing so I assume Bill hasn’t thoroughly kicked his ass.” She frowned, causing him to chuckle. “I’m just playing, Dee. Calm down.” He took a sip of his coffee and added, “So, what happened?”

Scully sighed, not wanting to go into it – especially, with the brother who’d all but cut her from his life in the first place.

“It’s complicated,” she replied.

“He didn’t cheat on you, did he? I’ll kill him.”

“No, he didn’t.” When he didn’t reply, she added, “It’s just complicated, Charlie.”

“Yet, he’s here…”

“He loved Mom and Mom loved him. Of course, he’s here.”

“Okay.”

“It’s fine, Charlie.”

“I didn’t say anything!” He said defensively.

“You didn’t have to,” Scully retorted. “Anyway, we’re working through things.”

“Counseling?” There was a hint of surprise in his voice that even Scully had to admit was warranted. “You’ve never been the counseling type. I’m impressed, Dana. You must really love the guy.”

She snorted in a derisive amusement. “I’ve been married to him for fifteen years. I’ve known him for over twenty.”

“Ah, so I’m guessing it’s serious, then.”

She looked up at him with a retort perched on her lips. The amused look on his face quelled her retort as she realized he was joking.

“Tell me about my nephew,” he said, safely changing the subject. “He’s avoided me.”

“Will has anxiety issues. He’s not really good with new people. Don’t take it personally.”

“He’s smart though, isn’t he?” Scully smiled as her baby brother added, “You can see it in his eyes.”

“Too smart for his own good,” she replied. “Did he tell you that he plays the the piano?”

“He's barely said anything to me, Billy mentioned that; Said he’s _really_ good.”

Pride swelled in Scully at the mention of her son’s musical accolade. “He is. He studies at a conservatory in Alexandria.”

“Wow. Good for him.”

“He wants to go to Juilliard,” she proudly announced.

“ _Juilliard_? Wow. Ambitious.”

“He gets that from his father.”

Charlie smirked. “He gets that from you, too, Miss FBI-Surgeon.”

“He’s a lot like you, though,” Scully replied, unable to keep the smirk off her face.

“Family fuck up? Somehow, I doubt that.”

“He has a penchant for fighting and getting into trouble.”

“Ah… want me to talk to him? Not that he’ll listen to me. I’m a total stranger to him, but I’m willing to try.”

“No,” she sighed. “You’re right, I doubt he’d open up. He barely trusts his therapist.”

“Sixteen and in therapy? What’d you do to him?” Charlie joked.

“He’s  _fifteen_.”

“That doesn’t exactly make it better.” Scully frowned causing her brother to laugh. “I’ve missed you, sis.”

And, just like that, she melted. “I’ve missed you, too, Charlie.”

* * *

Will tugged at his tie as he walked along the beach. He glanced to his parents in time to see his father wrap an arm around his mother. Neither of one of them seemed to notice – not that he minded.

He needed to be alone with his thoughts.

It had been a crazy couple of days and the insanity wouldn’t end until his uncles left tomorrow. Will _really_ wasn’t up to going to the dinner after this. He just wanted to go to home -- either to his house or his dad's, somewhere quiet, and call it a day.

He was still undecided about his Uncle Charlie, seeing no point in getting invested in someone who may or may not play a more prominent role in his life. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the guy; Will could appreciate Charlie’s sense of humor. It was that meeting like this left something to be desired.

At some point, he sat in the sand, not caring at all about having to change his clothes before going to the restaurant. He stared out over the water.

Will had never really seen the appeal that it held for his mother. He didn’t care for being in the water and he sure as hell wasn’t a fan of boats. They always made him sick. Although, he assumed his mother’s affinity had something to do with his grandfather being in the Navy.

Will’s mind drifted to thoughts of his grandparents, suddenly feeling alone. Sure, he had Matt and he had his parents, but his grandmother had been his confidant. He went to her with everything.

For the first time since he found her unconscious on the floor, he felt the loss. He had no regrets about his relationship with her; None whatsoever. That, he reasoned, was probably what made it hurt so badly.

All Will wanted to do was tell her that she’d been right: his parents saw the potential about him attending the conservatory for the remainder of high school. It seemed like such a trivial thing, but he wanted to tell her about it; tell her how excited he was and how he couldn’t wait for the semester to be over so that he could bid good riddance to his current school.

But, he couldn’t. She was gone.

He wondered how many other moments would happen that would cause him to experience this pain. His first day as a full-time piano student? Sending in his audition tape for Juilliard’s summer program? Graduation?

What Will wouldn’t give to have a conversation with her right now.

He wanted to ask her about his grandfather – something he carefully avoided and now suddenly didn’t know why. He wanted to ask if she thought they’d get along. Will wanted to ask if he would be okay with having a classical musician for a grandson, one that didn’t like boats or water or the beach; the only member of the Scully line with zero affection for _Moby Dick_?

Will wondered if Charlie would’ve been around more if his grandfather hadn’t died when he did. Would he have ever met the cousins he’d only just found out existed? Although, Charlie said he’d come around more often.

Would he and Matty still be best friends if they’d grown up spending more time with each other rather than really getting to know each other over the last year?

“Will?”

He looked up to see his mother standing over him, holding the urn carefully in her hands.

“We’re going to head out.”

He only nodded in response and rose from the sand before following her to the car silently.

Will was ready for those few days away his mother had mentioned.

 

The restaurant was packed, to Will’s dismay. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to tell his mother that he didn’t want to come.

“You okay, kid?” his uncle asked quietly from beside him.

Will looked up from picking at his meal to meet Bill’s gaze. He sighed and nodded.

“I’m just not that hungry.”

Bill studied him with an empathetic look in his eyes; something that, from what Will understood, was rare.

“Me, neither,” his uncle confessed.

He wasn’t exactly sure how it happened but before he knew it, he was in the car with his uncle and headed back to his mom’s house.

“She was really proud of you, you know,” Bill said as Will fastened his seatbelt. “Every time I talked to her, she had a Will story.”

“A Will story?”

Bill chuckled. “Some joke you told her or how you came over and mowed her yard without her asking.” He paused long enough to start the vehicle and Will studied him silently. “She loved listening to you play the piano.”

Will let out a shaky breath in a failed attempt at fighting back the tears stinging his eyes.

He cleared his throat and said, “it hasn’t even been a week and I have so much I want to tell her…”

“I know,” Bill replied. “This morning, I wanted to call her and tell her about having breakfast with your mom and Charlie.”

Will looked out the window in an attempt to hide his tears.

“It’s okay to cry, you know.”

“Is it?” Will retorted.

Bill let out a sigh. “She was your grandmother. You had a good relationship. There’s no shame in it, William.”

Will could only nod.

“She was always on my ass about fighting,” he said after several minutes. “I want to tell her that I’m going to be going to the conservatory full-time next semester and that it has to stop because they won’t tolerate it.” He huffed a laugh. “She was always telling me that piano was more productive than my fists.”

Bill chuckled. “She was right about that.”

“Yeah…”

Bill cleared his throat awkwardly and said, “I already talked to your mom about this, but if you want it, we want you to have the piano in her house. You were the only one who ever used it. You don’t have to decide now and it’s okay if you don’t want it. We wanted to offer it to you first.”

That did it.

Will was suddenly choking on his sobs. 

* * *

Scully entered her house with Tara and the kids in tow. Bill sat on the couch watching TV. She wondered if Will’s pain was as tangible to Bill as it was to her just entering the premises.

Matty flopped on the couch beside his father and inquired about what was on.

Scully made her way to the kitchen to put Will’s left overs in the fridge - figuring that he’d get hungry later - before going to change her clothes and, then, making her way to her son.

His door was closed, but the light was on underneath. She knocked softly and, when he didn’t answer, cautiously entered the room to find him curled up in his bed with Daggoo. He was staring at his shelf of snow globes with a haunted look on his face.

“Hey,” she said softly, shutting the door behind her. Will didn’t respond, but Daggoo wagged his tail. Even the puppy seemed to read the mood.

She sat on the edge of the bed, causing the little dog to move to a different spot with an amusing huff.

“How are you?” She asked.

“Not so great,” he confessed quietly. Scully noticed his eyes were bright red and assumed he’d been crying again.

“Uncle Bill told me about your conversation.” Will didn’t have to reply for her to know the anxiety her statement caused. “He didn’t betray any confidence,” she added. “He only mentioned you had a conversation and that you accepted Grandma’s piano.”

A tear slipped from his eyes and onto the pillow he was clutching.

“Oh, baby,” she soothed, lying beside him and wrapping her arms around him, holding her baby tightly as he choked out another sob.

Tears slipped from her eyes, too, whether in an empathetic response to the brokenness he exuded or her own pain.

They stayed that way, silent except for bouts of sobbing, until Will cried himself to sleep.

Scully held him for a while longer, running her hand through his stylish hair. She tried to will his pain away, absorb it so he didn’t have to feel it; although, she knew it was in vain.

 _It’s okay for him to hurt, Dana_ , her mother had said after they’d been staying with her for a couple of months following her separation from Mulder. _He has to feel it if he’s ever going to heal from it._

Scully let out a sigh, knowing that it applied to this situation, too; it applied to all of them.

When she finally left Will’s room and made her way to her own bed, she noticed a missed text from Mulder.

_How is he?_

It was from almost two hours ago.

Silently, Scully recalled Mulder’s hand squeezing hers when Bill mentioned that he and Will needed to head back to the house. Part of her wished that he was there to hold her like she’d held their son.

 _Not good,_ she finally replied.

Scully didn’t have to wait a full sixty second before her phone went off again, alerting her to Mulder’s reply.

_How are you?_

She stared at the message, debating how best to respond.

_Ask me tomorrow._

His reply came just as quickly as the previous one.

_Want me to come over?_

Scully let out sigh. She wanted to tell him yes and to bring an overnight bag. But, she needed to be alone right now.

_Tomorrow._

With that, she crawled under the comforter.

_I’m here if you need me._

She smiled ruefully. For all his faults, Mulder really was a good husband — even considering their current situation.

_Thank you. Goodnight, Mulder._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hold fast that Bill would’ve gotten over his shit (or, at least, MOSTLY gotten over it) in twenty years. Lol Plus, I really liked the idea of a tender moment between him and William.
> 
> Also, we didn’t actually get to see a memorial, but I feel like Charlie would show up - especially after being on the phone when she died; having talked to her and all that. My mom’s family has an “estranged sibling” that even managed to show up when my grandma died and this sibling wasn’t around longer than Charlie hasn’t been. Lol So, I feel like he’d show up.


	40. Dismantle. Repair.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scully, Mulder, and William go on their weekend away after Maggie's funeral.
> 
> Post-Home Again; pre-Babylon

WWill breathed in the mountain air and expelled it in a coughing fit. He was not built for this altitude and, clearly, had enough smog in his lungs that his body didn’t understand fresh air. A gust of wind blew, causing Will to pull his coat more tightly around himself as he sat on the cabin’s porch swing.

Colorado had a different kind of cold than D.C. The chill that normally wouldn’t have bothered him seemed to sneak past his coat, clothes, and skin and settled in his bones. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to go back inside the cabin his mother had rented for the three of them.

They were here to heal, she’d said. Or, at least, start trying to heal. Will wasn’t sure that he wanted to do that. Not because it was exhausting, but the state of numbness in which he’d lived for the last week had been a respite from the turmoil that he harbored inside of him over the last couple of years. Instead of his usual apocalyptic nightmares, he’d been falling into a dreamless sleep.

It was selfish, he thought, to not want to heal from something like losing one of the only people in the world he actually cared about simply because he didn’t want to face other aspects of reality. It probably made him a shitty person, but the things he saw in his dreams haunted his waking hours; kept him on edge. In a way, it was nice to be able to breathe; it was nice to know that the beast inside of him was lulled into what felt like a comatose state.

While his head wasn’t exactly clear per se, the chaos of the confines of his mind was settled. It forced the other parts of his body to relax. He couldn’t remember what it felt like to not be tense all the time.

“Hey,” a voice said, pulling him back to the present. Will looked up to see his mother standing at the end of the swing. She pointed at it and asked, “Can I sit?”

Will brushed off the dusting of snow that had accumulated on the wooden bench and scooted over.

“It’s cold out here,” she said, sitting beside him and wrapping ahem blanket more tightly around herself.

“Yeah,” he replied.

They watched the snow in silence for a moment before she said, “It’s pretty.”

“It falls differently here than at home,” he observed aloud.

“Yeah, it does,” his mother replied softly. He felt her gaze on him and turned his head to meet it. “How are you doing?” She asked gently. “You’ve been pretty quiet since we left D.C.”

“I’m alright,” Will answered honestly. “I miss her, of course; but, I’m okay.” His mother only nodded in response. “How are you?”

* * *

Scully was taken back slightly by his question. Will’s eyes held a soft, genuine concern. She’d seen the same thing from his father countless times over the years. They implored her to give a truthful response.

“I’m fine,” she confessed almost against her own will. “It’ll take time.”

“I know the feeling,” he replied softly.

Scully ran her hand through his hair like she used to when he was little and he leaned in to rest his head on her shoulder. She wondered just how “okay” he really was. Her heart broke for all of them. She missed her mother. Instinct told Scully to call her and tell her that Mulder had come with she and Will to Colorado for a few days. She wanted to tell her mother about  the cabin in the mountains that they’d rented; about the snow that was falling in large, thick flakes.

“This was a better choice than Missouri,” Will said, breaking the silence. Scully laughed and so did her son. His laughter was the best thing she’d heard in quite awhile. He lifted his head from her shoulder, still chuckling.

* * *

Mulder watched from the window as Will lifted his head from his mother’s shoulder. Watching the two of them as he’d been doing for the last several minutes reminded him of the times when Will was little and he’d crawl up on the couch and cuddle into her while Scully was reading or watching TV. He found it somewhat heartwarming that, despite his age, Will was still a mommy’s boy; still sought Scully’s comfort when he was hurt or scared.

When Will was younger, Mulder would get somewhat jealous. Not that he’d ever admit that to anyone. He could recall all the countless times that Will went to Scully for protection. Mulder could count on one hand the number of times his son had come to him.

Now, he was proud to have seen what that particular characteristic had turned into as Will had gotten older. He was fiercely protective of his mother - in some ways, more so than Mulder was. He was genuinely concerned about her wellbeing. During the darkest days of Mulder’s battle with depression, Will had been the one to take care of the things Scully had asked Mulder to take care of - whether the boy had taken it upon himself to be the man of the house when his father couldn’t or whether he had intuited Mulder’s unexplainable incapacitation.

If what they say is true about how a young man treats his mother being how he’ll treat the women in his life, Mulder was proud to say that, when the time came, Will would be an excellent boyfriend or husband. Mulder could only hope it was true. He wasn’t exactly Exhibit A. After Samantha’s abduction, he didn’t have the best relationship with his mother and his wife was the complete opposite of her.

Where his mother was cold and distant, Scully was warm and comforting. Where his mother was disinterested, Scully gave her undivided attention. When everyone - his mother included - thought he was insane, Scully defended him.

That was how he knew he’d fucked up when she left; that was why it hurt so badly. She’d given up so much of her life for him. If only he’d thought about that. Maybe, he would’ve forced himself out of bed those days he couldn’t move or shut off the computer to eat dinner with his family.

_“This week, I want you to think about what makes you confident,” Dr. Jake had said._

_“Confident,” Will repeated, his eyebrow arched in that way he’d inherited from his mother. “Why?” He asked, dragging out the word as if to let their therapist know he was dissatisfied._

_“Confidence has a direct impact on your self-esteem and your emotional health. The three of you have been through a lot this week; I don’t want to downplay that, but you’re still not communicating those emotions in a productive manner. You’ve certainly made progress, but there’s something that still holds all three of you back. So, your homework this week is to pick one thing that makes you feel confident and I want you to identify that in the other two as well.”_

_“Let me see if I’m understanding you,” Will said, leaning forward on the couch. “You want me to pick something that makes me confident so I’ll feel better about myself but then also try to figure out what makes them confident?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“That’s a weird assignment. But, music is mine.”_

_Dr. Jake chuckled. “Music is a given with you, Will. I want you to pick something else. What makes you feel good about yourself?” Dr. Jake glanced between Mulder and Scully and added, “What makes Will confident? What do you see in each other that makes the other confident?”_

_“What’s the purpose of this again?”_

_“William,” Scully sighed._

_“I’m being serious!” He retorted defensively._

_“We’ll talk about that next session, Will,” he replied with a smile._

_“Let me guess… something about an exercise in communication?”_

Mulder thought about their last session, wondering if Scully or Will had put any thought into it, yet. He had, though. He knew exactly from where his confidence stemmed. He figured Scully would say that it was his work. His son might say it was his “insane theories.” They’d both be wrong.

Mulder drew his confidence from Scully. When they’d met, he’d been cocky; arrogant. He was devoted to one thing and it sure as hell wasn’t her.

Over time, he grew to rely on her. When she was gone, he was restless; craving her presence. When she smiled at him, he felt like Superman. But, when she gave him that look – the one that started in her eyes and lit up her entire face, the one that told him that she was proud of him, well, he could take on the world.

Scully was his saving grace.

If someone had told him that when he met her, he’d have laughed in their face. Sure, she’d intrigued him. She was spunky, he could admit that even back then; a small firecracker with an incredible mind, adorable disposition, and the most stunningly beautiful personality he would ever encounter.

Scully was his confidence.

Silently, he recalled the first time he’d kissed her. The new millennium. He’d never been so nervous in his life. Instinct had overtaken his brain and he’d just gone for it.

The little smile she gave him afterward was enough for him to know that this was it. They were on the same page. Whether they were _together_ at that point or not was still up for debate, but it was in that moment that he decided he was exclusive.

Lucky for him, she seemed to share the sentiment. Although, he’d never had the nerve to ask her if she’d so much as gone for coffee with anyone after that point. Part of him didn’t want to know; didn’t want to upset his memory of that time.

If it was pure fantasy that, after that moment, she was wholly his, well, that was a fantasy he didn’t want to adulterate.

* * *

Scully’s stomach did a series of flips when the bed dipped as Mulder crawled into it. She suddenly regretted telling him that they could share the room. Although, she didn’t know why. They’d shared beds long before they were married – before they were together even. That had been her rationale. They were married, for God’s sake.

Still, this felt like those times years ago. It felt like the times when she was in love with him and had no clue where they stood in that regard, before she knew he felt the same. Scully wasn’t sure if she liked that feeling or not.

Although, they were making progress in repairing their marriage, they were still separated for a reason. Three days of sharing a bed in a mountain cabin was proving to be more homey than she’d anticipated.

Part of her thought she should’ve let Will take the pull out couch and let Mulder have the room Will occupied. The other part of her was in a state of anxious anticipation. And, not necessarily in a bad way.

It wasn’t like they were going to have sex, she silently reprimanded herself. But, something had shifted after her mother died. Whatever it was, it had been shifting for awhile now, but the movement was suddenly jarring when he became her rock during such a hard time.

Scully knew that William felt it, too. Aside from a couple of questions and snide remarks regarding their reconciliation, he broadcasted his concern and fears like a beacon any time she and Mulder shared an intimate moment – when Will caught the slightest of touches or glances.

She knew Mulder watched her when she didn’t realize it from time to time. She’d heard Will reprimand him for recently.

_“Stop that,” Will had said, clearly irritated._

_“Stop what?”_

_“The longing, puppy dog gazes. It’s… annoying.”_

_“I -,” Mulder began only for their son to cut him off._

_“I swear to God, if you say you don’t gaze at Mom, I will pummel you.” Mulder choked audibly as Will added, “You stare at her the same way Daggoo stares at me when I have food in my hand.”_

She hadn’t acknowledged to her boys that she’d overheard that from the kitchen, but it had made her smirk.

Huh.

_Her boys._

They  _were_ her boys, she realized. _Both_ of them.

It wasn’t a secret that, despite the pain and their separation, Mulder still had her heart, but it hadn’t dawned on her like that.

“You okay?” Mulder asked quietly from beside her.

She rolled over to face him. “Yeah,” she replied, not sure what else to say.

Although she couldn’t see his face, she could feel his eyes connected with hers and she fought back the urge to rest her head against his chest. Scully wasn’t sure if she was impressed or disappointed that he kept to his side of the bed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Mulder asked softly.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she sighed.

It was lie. There was a lot to talk about, but didn’t feel like the right time or place to have the conversation.

They weren’t here for that.

They were here to get away and process her mother’s death so that they could begin to heal from it; mostly, for William to do just that.

Her death had hit him harder than it had hit Scully – or, maybe, she just hadn’t let herself get there, yet.

To his credit, Mulder didn’t press. Instead, he reached out and covered her hand with his. Instead of pulling away, she held onto it.

* * *

“Pay up!” Will said, holding his hand out for Mulder to put the colored money in it. With a sigh, Mulder obliged. “Thank you very much.”

“You’re a terrible banker,” his father grumbled.

“Mom’s the banker. I just made a point to know which spaces are, statistically, landed on the most and bought them while you waited for Park Place,” Will retorted. “On which, by the way, I will be placing a hotel on my next turn.”

“That’s cheating,” Mulder said.

“Noooo,” Will drawled as Scully reached for the dice, smirking as her boys argued Monopoly logistics. “That’s resourceful.”

“Scully?” Mulder said, his eyes begging for the back up she couldn’t provide.

“Don’t drag me into it,” she retorted, rolling the dice and moving her piece. She, too, had to pay William.

“Nowhere in the rules does it say that I cannot preemptively Google that information.” Will picked up the dice and rolled, landing on a Chance square. He drew a card and sighed, “Damn it.”

“What?” She asked.

“Go directly to jail,” he read, “Do not pass Go. Do not collect two hundred dollars.”

Scully watched as Mulder moved Will’s piece to the jail square. He flashed their son a smug smirk and said, “Karma.”

Mulder rolled and landed on Park Place, where Will had just placed the promised hotel.

Will returned the smug smirk and retorted a matching, “Karma.” Mulder frowned, causing Scully stifle a laugh.

Ultimately, she won the game.

* * *

The weekend away had been a good one, Scully thought as she pulled up to her house. It was lighter, for the most part, than she’d expected it to be. The three of them had relaxed.

If she let herself pretend, it was like she hadn’t left in the first place; like Mulder hadn’t sunk so deeply into his depression that it damn near killed all three of them.

In fact, now that she thought about it, neither of her boys seemed to exhibit any kind of depressed or anxious behavior after that first night. Scully couldn’t help but to smile at the realization. Whether it was being away from their daily distractions and routines, their respective medications, or some combination of the two, her family seemed like themselves for the first time in a long time.

For that, Scully was grateful.

* * *

Will walked along the pavement, surprised to know that he was the only soul out at that point in the night. The only sound was his shoes hitting the pavement with each step.

It was misty outside; not too cold nor too warm, but not comfortable, either.

It sent an eerie chill down his spine, making him suddenly uncomfortable. The part of his brain that told instinctively told him he was in danger rang with loud warning bells.

But, he had nowhere to hide.

Will didn’t realize that his pace has quickened slightly as he cast a glance behind him. No one was there but he had the distinct feeling that he was being watched. Suddenly, he regretted his midnight stroll.

He exhaled heavy breaths, willing himself to relax, and pulled his hood up over his head before lowering the volume of the music in his ears.

Thunder rolled in the distance and he hissed out a curse. The last thing he needed was to get soaked.

He looked up to the sky in time for a bright light to shine down on him, nearly blinding him and completely paralyzing him.

Panic rose at an alarming rate and he tried to jerk away, barely managing to do so and crashing into something hard.

Will opened his eyes to find himself tangled in his comforter and lying on the floor, gasping for breath.

It was just a dream.


	41. God & Drugs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder drags Will to Texas, not wanting Scully to think his work is more important than his son; Will has a lot to say about it in therapy.  
> (this chapter is supposed to be funny! Yay for comic relief!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't plan on doing a Babylon chapter. In fact, I'd totally skipped it. But, I thought it would be hilarious to tell the story from Will's perspective in therapy.

Will fidgeted in his spot on the couch. He caught his parents doing the same; although, to his mother’s credit, she was the only one of them who had any semblance of composure.

Dr. Jake was staring at them.

“So,” their therapist began awkwardly, breaking the equally as awkward silence. “Tell me about this week.”

His father choked out a cough. His mother shifted in her seat. Will faced both of them, expectantly, and said, “Do you want to tell him or should I?”

His parents exchanged a look and Will faced Dr. Jake.

“It all started when my certifiably insane father got me out of school early.”

“Actually, it started before that,” his dad protested.

“ _I’m_ the one telling the story here. You passed up your chance.”

“Then, tell it right,” his father grumbled.

“Mulder,” his mother sighed, admonishing his father.

“Nuh-uh!” Will admonished, shaking his head in disbelief. “After what you put me through, you do _not_ get to act like the dejected kid on the playground! No freakin’ way!”

“I’m just saying that there’s more to the story than when I picked you up from school!” Mulder retorted defensively.

“Fine,” Will growled. He faced Dr. Jake again. “They were at work. These two young, albeit similar to them at a younger age – if I understand correctly – agents roll into their basement office. Mom makes a joke. The two baby agents ask about a wizard -.”

“They didn’t ask about a wizard.” This time, it was his mother. Will only frowned at her. She sighed and gestured for him to continue.

“ _Anyway_ , these baby agents ask him about a _wizard_ ,” he continued, making a point to glare at his mother as he exaggerated the word, “so they could talk to a semi-dead terrorist in a Texas hospital. Some lapse in judgement occurred and Mom ended up with Texas with Agent Babyface.”

“Agent Babyface?” Dr. Jake asked, a look of complete confusion present on his face.

“Yes. Agent Babyface. Can I finish my story now?”

“Proceed,” Dr. Jake replied.

“So, Agent Einstein – yes, her name was _actually_ Einstein and she was a bitch –.”

“William!” His parents scolded in unison.

“Well, she _was_. Both of you met her.” Again, Will returned his gaze to their therapist. “Anyway, Agent Einstein calls up Crazypants here,” Will said, pointing rigidly to his father as he continued without missing a beat, “and he decides to pull me out of school and drag me to Texas with him.” Will faced his father. “Good enough for Cliff Notes?”

His father sighed as Will continued with his story.

“And, this is where our story picks up…” Will continued.

* * *

Will’s phone buzzed in his pocket again. If not for the glare that he was receiving from his teacher, he would’ve checked it. Naturally, the one time he showed up to class, on time, his phone would go off like crazy through the entire period.

It buzzed again.

“Mr. Mulder…” she warned, catching him as he reached into his pocket.

“It could be important. My parents are FBI agents. They don’t text me when I’m in school,” he replied simply. She only glared in response. Will sighed and removed his hand from his jeans pocket, leaving the phone secured in it.

A couple of minutes later, the phone on her desk rang. She answered it quickly and then met Will’s gaze. With a sigh, she hung up the phone.

“Mr. Mulder, you’re needed in the office.” Will felt his eyes narrow. “Take your things.”

Will didn’t argue. He failed to see the point of taking a health class, anyway.

When he got to the office, he was surprised to find his father standing there with an exasperated look on his face.

“You couldn’t respond to a single one of my texts?” Mulder admonished.

“I was in health hell with the she-devil. She kept glaring at me. I honestly thought I was close to bursting into flames.” His father frowned and William responded in kind before asking, “Why are you here, anyway?”

“Can’t a father pull his son out of school for some fun?”

Will felt his eyes narrow as he dubiously added, “No. No, you can’t.”

His father rolled his eyes. “Do you need to go your locker or anything before we go?”

“Does Mom know about this?”

“Would you just trust me?”

“This entire situation has a red flag plastered all over it.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Mulder deadpanned.

“Dramatic? Going off of experience is not dramatic; it’s cautious.”

“Do you want out of school or not?”

Will mulled it over for a moment. “Ugh. Fine.”

Will arched a dubious eyebrow at his father when they pulled into the driveway.

“I thought you said that fun was to be had…”

“You have to pack a bag first.”

“Nope. Take me back to school,” Will demanded.

“Why?”

“Because you’ve used the word ‘fun’ and followed it with ‘pack a bag’. Whatever this is, it won’t end well. Take me back to school.”

“You don’t want to know where we’re going?”

“I know where I’m going: _back to school_!”

“You’re a Mulder! Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Perfectly contained in a virtual world,” Will retorted.

“Oh, come on!”

“No, Dad! Any time I go on an ‘adventure’ with you,” the teen protested, placing air quotes around the word, “I end up injured! I’m not gonna let you drag my ass to Area 51 and get shot at for trespassing on government property! My idea of a good time isn’t _dodging bullets_!”

“You’re not going to get shot at. I promise.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“We’re going to Texas.”

“I’m not going to Texas. I’m going back to school.”

“You’d rather sit in ‘health Hell’ with the ‘She-devil’?”

“Yes. It’s safer than going to _anywhere_ with _you_.”

* * *

“You pulled him out of school?” Scully asked. “Mulder!”

“ _And,_ I had to miss my lesson at the conservatory! Genny is not going to put up with me for much longer if he’s going to keep doing stuff like this!” Will added in exasperation.

“Scully, I needed to get to Texas for the same reason that you did. I didn’t really have time to wait for the bell to ring.”

“I didn’t want to go in the first place! I told you to take me back to school!”

“Okay,” Dr. Hadley interrupted, causing all of three of them to quiet down. “Fox, what made you think that taking Will to Texas was a good idea?”

“Ten bucks says that he _didn’t_ think about it,” Will said, leaning in to say it quietly to his mother. She couldn’t help but to smirk, knowing that he was probably right.

“Will was supposed to be with me that weekend. I had to leave for work.”

“So, why not just call Dana and reschedule?”

It was a fair question, Scully thought. She was brought back into the moment when Mulder sighed.

“I didn’t want her – or Will – to think that I would rather work than spend time with my son,” he replied with a tone so honest that it threatened to break her heart. Scully had known and loved the man long enough to know what he was really saying he didn’t want to seem like his father. Mulder could never be his father, she mused. He was a much better man than that.

“So, instead, you drug me to Texas, took a hallucinogen, threw a hoedown, terrified the locals, and proceeded to try to communicate with a dead terrorist,” Will retorted. “Parent of the Year, Dad.”

“After what happened last time, I wasn’t about to leave him home alone. And, I didn’t want Scully thinking I didn’t want to spend time with him. I did. I had no idea that she was in Texas, too.”

Now, Dr. Hadley was looking directly at her. Scully felt somewhat like a kid in the principal’s office.

“You didn’t tell Fox that you were going to Texas, too?”

“Well, no,” she replied. “He was supposed to have William. I didn’t see any reason to te--.”

Will groaned loudly, getting the attention of everyone in the room. “See what I mean, Doc? Zero communication. It’s been like this for my entire life.”

Scully frowned.

“Okay… Fox, Will, what happened when you arrived in Texas.”

“The real fun began…” Will replied sarcastically.

* * *

“I cannot believe you drug me here,” Will complained. “Who the hell are you looking for?”

“I’m looking for --.”

“Agent Mulder!” A redheaded woman said, getting the attention of both of the Mulder men.

“Her,” his father said, finishing his sentence. A knot formed in Will’s stomach. He might actually have to commit murder before this was said and done. “Agent Einstein. For a second there, I thought you were gonna punk me.”

Will stiffened as the strange woman walked toward them. He recognized the purposeful look in her eyes; his mother would get a similar look where his father was concerned. No, Will didn’t like this one bit.

He cast a glance at his father. The asshole actually seemed pleased to see this woman. Will grit his teeth, willing the beast inside to calm down, to wait before striking. They didn’t have all the facts. Not yet.

“Thank you for coming,” his father said in a tone that Will didn’t like. The beast inside hissed and Will felt the back of his neck prickle. She glanced at Will and then back to his father.

“Who the hell are you?” Will finally asked, now that the woman was aware of his presence.

“Who are you?” she retorted.

“I asked you first.”

“I’m a federal agent,” she began, crossing her arms.

“If I cared about your occupation, I’d have asked about it. You didn’t answer my question.”

“Will,” his father said, sounding like he was preventing a fight from happening. “This is Agent Einstein. Agent Einstein, this is my son, Will.”

“ _Einstein_?” Will chuffed in amusement, the puns lining up in his brain and begging for use.

“He can’t be here,” she retorted.

“He doesn’t _want_ to be here,” Will retorted, warranting a glare from both adults. “Well, I didn’t. Feel free to abuse your badge and ask our flight attendant. I complained the entire trip.”

Einstein and his father stepped away from him, leaving Will to guard both of their luggage. Will rolled his eyes and followed in time to hear Einstein say, “I had a little trouble procuring the illicit substance.”

His father held up two pills as Will slowed to a stop. “Where’d you get these?”

“Apparently, Texas is somewhat of a promised land--.”

“Dibs!” Will said, managing to snatch the pills from his father’s hand. Mulder reached for them but Will jerked his hand away too quickly. “Nuh-uh! A forced trip with you to talk to a _terrorist_ calls for high-caliber drugs. These are mine.”

“William, no. Your mother would murder me.”

“She’s gonna kill you anyway!”

Einstein snatched the pills from Will’s hand and dropped them back into his father’s.

“So, this is the real deal, huh?” his father said, placing the pills in his pocket.

“I can’t speak to the dosage and I certainly wouldn’t take both.” She paused and added, “Not until you’ve experienced the one.”

“See, one for each of us,” Will interjected, receiving frowns from the agents. He rolled his eyes.

“May I ask, Agent Einstein, what changed your mind on this whole deal here?”

“I got here to find Agent Scully was here in Texas working with Agent Miller.”

“ _She’s here, too_?” Will shrieked. “Fuuuuuck!” He ran his hand through his hair and said, “You’re both dead. You do realize that, right?”

Agent Einstein scoffed.

“Oh, I’m not kidding,” he said. “She’s going to murder both of you. _You_ for giving _him_ an illegal, psychotropic drug and, _you_ ,” he said, facing his father, “for bringing a minor to talk to a terrorist.”

“ _Dead_ terrorist,” Einstein added.

“Dead?” Will faced his father, gritting his teeth. “How many times do I have to tell you: _you are not a necromancer_! You are _not_ a shaman! Ghosts do _not_ exist! You _cannot_ communicate with someone who’s pushing up Day-Glo daisies!”

“William,” his father groaned. Will pulled out his cellphone and unlocked it. “What are you doing?”

“Calling Mom,” he retorted. “If you’re going to be trippin’ balls and talking to dead people, I’m going home.”

* * *

“You’re making it sound way worse than it was,” Mulder retorted, rolling his eyes at his son’s story.

“Maybe, the shrooms fried your brain because I’m telling the story _exactly_ how it happened!” Will returned. He faced Scully. “You believe me, right?”

She met Mulder’s gaze and sighed.

“You believe _Crazypants_?”

“I think there’s more to the story,” she said carefully.

“I  _know_ that you’re wrong. You know _how_ I know? _I was there_!”

“Will, how did you feel about your father taking shrooms?” Dr. Jake asked.

“Jealous.” Mulder’s eyebrows threatened to fly off his face. He faced Scully. She seemed just as surprised as he and Dr. Jake were by Will’s blunt statement.

“Jealous?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because he had jolly good time and I had to babysit.”

“What do you mean ‘babysit’?” Scully asked slowly, arching an eyebrow at her him. Mulder felt the heat on his neck. He was in trouble now; he just knew it.

“Okay, so, we get to the hospital, right? They’re evacuating and Dad and Einstein go in. The cops tried to keep me out, but Dad told them that I was with him and Agent Einstein actually backed him up for some reason… although, she ripped him a new one in the elevator.” He smirked and said, “You’d have been proud, Mom. I’ve never seen anyone tear into him like that, besides you.”

“Will…” Mulder groaned.

“Right. Anyway, so we get to the terrorist’s room and this sketchy nurse is talking to Einstein and being an overall bitch. I look over at Dad and he pops one of the pills while they’re distracted. Then, I watch him put the second one in his mouth.”

“You took both pills at once?” Scully admonished. “Mulder, that was incredibly irresponsible!”

“ _That’s_ the irresponsible part?!” Will shrieked in surprise. “Not the bring-your-kid-to-terrorist-day part?”

“What happened next, Will?” Dr. Jake asked.

* * *

“What the hell are you doing?” Will asked, his heart pounding in his chest as his father pulled up a chair.

“What I came here to do,” his father replied simply.

“Jesus Christ, Dad!”

“Calm down, Will.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down! You just took a double-shot of shrooms! Mom’s probably roaming the hospital somewhere and, when she kills you, you’re not even gonna feel it! Knowing you, you’ll probably think it’s foreplay!”

His father shot him a look and Will stiffened.

“I… um…” he shook his head awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

“You’re overreacting, Will,” his father said calmly.

“I think you’re severely _under_ reacting. Nothing about this trip is okay. Not a damn thing.” He scoffed. “I’m getting Einstein.”

“You’re telling on me,” his father laughed.

“No, when I get ahold of _Mom_ , I’m telling on you. Until then, I’m letting Einstein play babysitter. I’m done.”

Will left the room and found Einstein talking to the nurse.

“Your partner left the room,” the nurse said.

“Where did he go?” Einstein demanded.

“I literally just walked out to get you. I have no idea. But, he’s insane without the drugs. I don’t even want to imagine him on them.” Will heaved a frustrated sigh. “We need to find him.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Do we split up or team up?”

“You’re not leaving my sight,” she deadpanned.

“Let’s go find Agent Imbecile, then.”

They took off down the hall, spotting Mulder as he entered the elevator. He grinned and waved at them.

Will and Einstein looked at each other.

“Stairs,” Will said.

“Stairs,” she agreed and they took off toward the stairwell.

They looked around the parking lot, having been too late.

“Great,” Einstein muttered. “Do you think he’s still inside?”

“Doubtful.”

“How do you know?”

“I was raised by him. I know how he thinks.” Will paused and shuddered. “That’s embarrassing.”

“What?”

“Knowing how he thinks.”

“If he’s not here, how are we supposed to find him?” she challenged. “I doubt he’ll answer the phone.”

“Oh, history’s already taught me that,” Will said dismissively. “Where’s your car?”

“You know where he’s going?”

“Nope,” Will said.

Einstein scoffed. “Then, how are we supposed to find him?”

Will grinned. “He’s technologically inept.”

“What does that have to do with anything? We’re wasting time standing here.”

“Relax. His phone has GPS.”

“Call in a trace. Good thinking,” she praised. “It’s hard to believe you’re his kid.”

“That’s probably the biggest compliment I’ve ever gotten. Anyway, don’t waste your time using FBI resources to find him. I can do it faster.”

“How?”

“We’ll just use Find My Phone. He’s already programmed in.” Will smirked. “One too many bad camping trips.” Einstein chuffed in response. “Where’s your car?”

Einstein led him to the car and soon they were pulling out of the hospital’s parking lot and following the signal Will found.

“You really don’t like your father, do you?”

“He’s insane,” he retorted.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I don’t see why Agent Scully stays partnered with him after all this time.”

“He’s the father of her kid,” Will deadpanned.

“Wow. I did not see that coming.” 

“Seriously?” Will's eyes narrowed. Was she being intentionally thick? 

“Well, I mean, I figured she was in love with him. No one would stay in a unit like _that_ otherwise. It’s career suicide.”

Will felt himself stiffen. His mother had thrown away her career because of his father. He found himself forcing back the beast. They’d find his father and then he was going to turn him in to his boss – whether his mother liked it or not.

“You okay?” Einstein asked.

“I’m fine,” he replied. She shot him a glance that clearly showed that she didn’t believe him. “I just want to find him and get out of this shithole.” He glanced to his phone. “Take a left up here.”

When they arrived at the bar, they were shocked to find Mulder on the dance floor.

“What is _wrong_ with him?” Einstein asked.

“ _So_ many things,” Will retorted. She took a step toward the dance floor, but Will stuck out a hand to stop. “When we tell this story later, we’re gonna need proof.”

He pulled out his phone and opened the camera app.

“We can’t record --.”

" _You_ can’t, but I can,” he retorted. “This is, literally, the only good thing to come out of this trip. Plus, I’m covering your ass, too. Thank me so we can move on.”

Einstein frowned but ceased her protesting. Will fought back laughter as he recorded his father’s absurd dancing. They both winced when Mulder attempted to do a backflip and failed. Miserably.

“That’s going to hurt in the morning,” Will deadpanned.

“I’ve seen enough,” Einstein said, making her way over to his father. Will sighed and put away his phone.

* * *

“I did not!” Mulder protested.

“Oh, really?” Will challenged, pulling his phone from his pocket. He pulled up the video and handed over the phone. Mulder watched himself, wincing, as the country music and Will’s laughter came through the speakers. “That video is my ticket to a guest spot on Ellen.” He paused before proudly adding, “Five million views on YouTube in less than a week.”

“You know you have to take that down, right?” Scully asked, glancing to her husband, who was watching the video in disbelief.

“What?” Will protested.

“He’s a federal agent, Will. You can’t put that on YouTube.”

“It’s already on YouTube.” He smirked when he handed the phone to his mother.

“Stoned FBI Agent Hosts Hoedown?” she asked in disbelief when she read thte title.

“You can’t tell me that you wouldn’t click on that video so fast if someone sent it to you.”

Scully couldn’t help but to watch it. Point: Will.

Will giggled and said, “My favorite part is when he tries to do the backflip.”

After watching the video, Scully fought a smirk as she handed Will’s phone back to him.

“Can we get back to therapy, please?” Mulder asked.

Will sighed and looked back at Dr. Jake. “After he tried to be Kid Rock, he passed out. We had to call an ambulance.”

* * *

Will looked up as his father’s boss entered the room, shooting a skeptical look his way.

“What happened?”

“Beats the hell out of me,” Will retorted. “He took some pills and went crazy. You can fire him. You’d probably be doing the U.S. a service.”

Skinner frowned. “Does your mom know you’re here?”

“It’s going to be a fun surprise,” Will retorted, feigning enthusiasm.

Skinner snorted in amusement. “Not for her.”

“Oh, when she kills him, I won’t be pressing charges.”

“Agent Mulder,” his boss said. “Agent Mulder.”

Will watched as his father’s eyes fluttered open. Skinner frowned. Will smirked.

“Where’s your hat?” his father asked.

“Rodeo’s over, cowboy. We’re hanging up your spurs for good.”

Will snorted, fighting back the laugh. He liked this Skinner guy.

“What are you talking about?”

“What am I talking about?”

“Dude, I was on fire!” his father protested. Will’s eyebrows shot up.

“ _Dude_ , you were an embarrassment. To me and to the Federal Bureau of Investigation.”

Will watched in amusement as his father found out about the placebo.

“You were there,” his father insisted, tapping on his boss’s tie. Will was almost certain that Skinner was going to smother his father with a pillow. Will would’ve let him, too. “And, the Lone Gunmen. The badonkadonk?”

“Yeah, I was in Washington, Agent Mulder,” Skinner said.

“This is what I’m saying!”

Skinner faced Einstein and said, “I think he’s still tripping.”

“Well, he’s crazy so there’s no real way to know,” Will interjected.

“The placebo effect has been known to have a lasting psychological outcome,” Einstein explained, completely ignoring Will’s comment.

“I talked to the terrorist,” his father insisted.

“You talked to the terrorist?” Einstein asked in disbelief, her arms crossed.

“Yes. He whispered in my ear.”

“Well, what did he say, Agent Mulder?”

Will had to admit, he was interested in the answer, too.

Finally, his dad said, “I can’t tell you what he said. It was in Arabic.”

Will rolled his eyes. Go figure.

“Well, I’m gonna get you a wheelchair so we can get you home, partner,” Skinner said. He cast a glance at Will and added, “I’m going let your wife deal with you on this one.”

Will watched his father blanch.

“You deserve whatever you get.” Will grinned a snide grin and added, “Maybe, she’ll shoot you again.”

”Again?” Einstein asked, wide-eyed.

”That’s what happened last time he was on drugs.”

”Twenty years ago!” Mulder said. “I’d like to think she’s mellowed out.”

”Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better. I’m just hoping she’ll let _me_ do it.”

* * *

Will waited outside the hospital room as instructed. They were taking their sweet time talking to a dead man. With a sigh, he pulled out his phone and uploaded the video to YouTube with a grin.

When the door opened, he looked up to see the frustrated adults exiting.

“With the help of Agent Einstein,” his father was saying.

“Agent Mulder, _please_ stop,” Einstein sighed.

“Mulder, when could he have possibly spoken to you?” his mother said and, suddenly, Will’s heart was pounding in his chest. No one seemed to notice him sitting outside of the room. Oddly enough, he was okay with that.

“I can explain. Or, I can’t explain. He spoke to me. In Arabic.”

“In Arabic?” his mother demanded.

“Words I didn’t understand, yeah.”

“What words, Agent Mulder?” Agent Miller asked.

“Yeah, Dad… what’d the dead guy say?” Will retorted, causing the adults to face him so fast that he was surprised they didn’t get whiplash.

“William?” his mother asked in surprise.

“Hi, Mom,” he said, rising from his seat and walking toward them. “Tried to call. You didn’t answer.”

“ _Agent Scully_ is your mom?” Einstein asked in surprise. She looked like she might vomit. "I should have known..."

”I told you!” Will retorted.

”You did not!”

”I said he’s the father of her kid.”

”I didn’t think you meant _you_!”

”It’s not my fault that you can’t read between the lines,” Will bit back.

“Agent Mulder,” Agent Miller prompted, ceasing the verbal sparring between Einstein and Will.

Will watched as his father tried to recall his hallucination.

“Babel al… something,” he said. Will stiffened. Holy hell. Maybe, his dad wasn’t as crazy as he thought. Not that Will would ever admit it.

“Babel is Babylon. The city.”

“Like, in Ancient Babylon?” his mother asked.

“I feel like I need to explain,” Einstein tried only for Agent Miller to sharply cut her off. Will was surprised to find himself siding with her on this.

“Mulder, are you okay?” his mother asked, bringing Will’s thoughts back to the present.

“Debatable,” Will grumbled.

“Not now, William,” she said firmly. Will threw his hands up in defeat and went back to his chair.

* * *

“The next thing I know, there’s an FBI raid and he’s, shockingly enough, saving the day. Courtesy of the placebo.”

Dr. Jake let out a heavy breath and leaned forward as though processing what Will had told him.

“That’s… quite the tale,” he said. “I saw the news about that raid, though. I just never thought that’s it came about.”

Will exchanged a stunned look with his mother as his father, shocked, asked, “You believe me?”

Dr. Jake flashed his mega-watt grin and said, “It’s not about what I believe, Fox. It’s about what you believe.”

“He believes in aliens,” Will deadpanned. “I wouldn’t put too much faith in a drug trip.”

He glanced to his mother and saw her smirk. His father only frowned.

* * *

“So,” Scully said as they got in the car.

“So?” Will asked, glancing to her before reaching for his seatbelt.

“What do you want to do for dinner?”

“Nothing with mushrooms in it,” he retorted causing her to laugh.

“You should ease up on your dad,” she said.

“That’s a joke, right? The guy tried to take _shrooms_ to talk to a dead guy. Not just _any_ dead guy, but a terrorist. And, he made his teenage son to do it with him. That’s not exactly quality father-son bonding.”

“William,” she sighed, pulling the vehicle out of the parking space. Although, she had to admit, he had a point.

“Let’s just order pizza,” he said. “No mushrooms.”

“You’re not going to let that go for a while, are you?”

“No, probably not,” he replied with a grin.

Scully chuckled and said, “Alright. Pizza it is. No mushrooms.”

Will laughed and she couldn’t help but to grin as they pulled out into traffic to make their way home.


	42. The First Horseman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dun-dun-dun...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cue the set up to the rest of the story...
> 
> I feel like it goes without saying since I've already said it before but: I did not write the dialogue you saw on screen. Someone else did that. I don't own any of these characters or the X-Files (although, I'd argue that this version of Will falls under Fair Use). If you sue me, you won't get anything; I'm a broke college kid.

Will wasn’t sure what it was that woke him, but he found himself lying on a couch in a room he didn’t recognize. He looked around anxiously as the beast inside of him began to stir. It seemed to sense what he already knew: something wasn’t right. He pushed himself off the couch and carefully explored the house but finding no exit.

“You sent for me,” he heard a voice sneer; his father’s voice. “I’m here.”

“Dad,” he said quietly to himself. The beast hissed. It was a warning hiss. He’d only had it a handful of times in his life, but given those situations, Will had learned to pay attention to it.

“This is so unnecessary, Fox,” replied a voice that Will only recognized. He’d heard the voice before but had never seen the face to which it belonged.

This was a dream, he thought. It had to be.

“I don’t come when you call,” his father’s voice said, growing louder as Will neared a room with an open door.

“I’ve controlled you since before you knew I existed,” the other voice said.

Will peeked into the room to see his father pointing a gun at a man sitting in a chair. He looked like hell; they both did.

“Dad… Dad, what the hell are you doing? Will demanded, but his father didn’t hear him.

“So, who’s in control now?” Will felt himself relax when his father lowered his weapon.

“The world crumbling around us,” the old man replied.

“You set this in motion. Now, you’re gonna put a stop to it,” his father ordered. Will felt his eyebrows furrow. What the hell was this?

It was unlike any dream he’d had – and, he’d certainly had some doozies.

There was a sick amusement in the old man’s voice when he replied, “It’s far too late for that, Fox. Too late for your heroics… or, mine.”

“I don’t believe you!” his father snapped back.

“You don’t  _want_ to believe.”

That would be a first, Will mused silently. His father wanted to believe in everything – except for God, ironically enough.

He watched as his father and the old man stared each other down, a silent battle of wills. It left the youngest Mulder all the more confused. Will watched as the old man lifted a cigarette to the hole in his neck.

“Crazy bastard,” Will whispered to himself. Why would someone in that position continue to smoke? Will knew for damn certain that he wouldn’t. If it caused a hole to be cut in his neck, he certainly would kick the habit.

Will shook the thought from his mind. Now wasn’t the time. Right now, he needed to figure out what the hell was happening. What kind of dream was this? Why couldn’t either of the two men see him? Why was he here in the first place?

Most importantly, who the hell was this smoking man?

“You may not believe this,” the anonymous man finally said, “but, I really want to save your life.”

“I don’t make deals with you,” his father snarled in return.

Who the hell was this guy? The devil?

Will had never seen this side of his father before and it made him wonder if there was some basis in reality. He knew how his dreams played out – he’d never understood them, but Will knew his dreams. This was unlike the majority of them. The air of malice was so thick in the room that it threatened to suffocate Will.

Why was he now seeing the face of the man owning the voice that he’d heard in his nightmares for most of his life?

“So you can see Scully.”

The beast inside of Will hissed again, a warning to the man. Will felt his blood begin to boil in tandem with his father’s rage.

“If you harm her in _any_ way,” he growled, smacking the cigarette from the old man’s hand. The man’s eyes flicked to Will, who was now standing beside his father. It was the briefest of looks, lasting only a split-second, but it was enough to send a shiver down Will’s spine and cause him to question whether or not the man could actually see him.

He chuckled an irritatingly calm chuckle for a man who was just threatened and said, “Every man has his weakness. Mine was always just cigarettes,” he said reaching for the pack. Will had half a mind to take his father’s gun and put a bullet between the man’s eyes, but instead, he shot a glance to his father.

His dad’s posture was still rigid and defensive.

“You think it’s power, what you’re doing, but it’s not. It’s sickness.”

“Sick is not doing it.”

“Spoken like a true psychopath,” Will said in unison with his father. He cast a glance to his dad, who still didn’t seem to realize that he was there.

“I didn’t set out to destroy the world, Mulder,” the man said, “ _People_ did.” Will felt his eye brows furrow again.

What the hell was happening here and why the hell couldn’t he wake himself up from this nightmare?

“You can’t justify your actions.”

“We have just had the hottest year on record, on planet Earth. I didn’t do that.” His father shot the man a look as he continued. “I’m not responsible for the forty percent loss of-of bird life or the decimation of the megafauna.”

“Let’s just murder all the people!” his father roared, causing Will to jump and the beast to growl.

He’d seen his father angry before, but he’d never seen him like this. If he was being honest, it was somewhat terrifying. His father was, typically, a mellow person.

“Aliens predicted all this,” the old man insisted. Will could only roll his eyes. Why the hell was he dreaming about a conversation with aliens in it? He didn’t believe in aliens. “They saw it happening to themselves.”

“And, you kept it a secret.”

“Look at world history, Fox. Neither you nor I could save mankind from self-extermination.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Will heard himself growl. Neither of the other men seemed to hear him nor pay him any mind, leaving Will to wonder, yet again, if he was invisible to them.

“So, you plotted your endgame.”

“I just changed the timetable,” the man said, innocently. “Everyone still dies in the end.”

Will felt sick to his stomach. There was no way this could be legit, could it? He thought back to the meeting with Tad O’Malley. Had that whack job actually been right?

Will jumped when his father cocked and pointed the weapon at the old man.

“Dad…” Will said, desperately hoping that his father would hear him and back off. Murder wasn’t something that Will ever thought his father was capable of doing and the thought alone made him sick.

“What good would it do?” The old man challenged. “You’ll be dead yourself within a week.”

Will swallowed hard and looked at his father. He was surprised to find him hesitating.

“What are you offering?”

“A seat at the big table. It would be a shame without you.”

Will held his breath, waiting for his father’s reply. Would he seriously take the offer? If he did, what were the implications?

“I couldn’t look myself in the mirror,” his dad said and Will exhaled a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. If there was one thing he could say for his father, it’s that he had some kind of honor about him. With a snarl, he added, “let alone, you.”

“We could start the world anew, Fox,” the man said in a slithery kind of voice that had Will briefly pondering if this was some sort of Garden of Eden scenario where his dad played the role of Eve and this deal, whatever it actually was, was the forbidden fruit. “You. Me. Your beloved Scully.”

His father got worked up again. “Not a rat’s chance in hell.”

“It’s ‘snowball’s chance in hell’,” Will corrected him with a sigh, knowing damn well he couldn’t hear him anyway.

“You speak to me of Hell,” the man chuckled sickly, “when you look to be the one that’s Hell bound?”

Now that the man mentioned it, something did look seriously wrong with his dad. More so than just getting his ass handed to him; which, Will had assumed.

“You appear a little feverish,” the man continued. There seemed to be some kind of sick pleasure in his voice. “The Plague? Avian Flu? Nasty strain of Rhino virus?” The man’s face softened. “It’s not too late, Fox,” he implored and Will had half a mind to tell his dad to take the deal.

Before he knew it, his father collapsed and the old man rose menacingly from his chair. Will slid down beside his father.

“Dad!” he said.

“This is no time for pride, Fox,” the man said.

“I don’t… I don’t want your help…” his father said weakly.

“Dad, please!” Will begged, but still his father didn’t seem to realize that he was there as the man kicked the gun from his father’s hand.

“The ultimate irony. The defeat of the big-brained beasts by the tiniest, unthinking microbes. All thanks to the Spartan virus.”

“That’s not a real thing, you sick son of a bitch!” Will growled, ready to let the beast inside have its way; ready to release the tension he’d been holding in for so long, bracing himself to finally breathe a little. “Fix him!”

“Musings of a madman,” his father said, attempting to get off the floor.

“You don’t give up, do you?” the man chuckled.

“You’ll be sorry when I’m gone.”

“I’ll miss you dearly. You’ve made my life truly worth living.”

“What is he talking about?” Will demanded.

“I’m on the king’s throne,” his dad said weakly. He seemed delirious. Will swallowed. “It feels soft. Just like the king.”

The man pulled the prosthetic from his face, making Will grimace, “Yet, I once cheated death.”

His father chuckled, seeming to know what the Phantom of the Weird House was talking about. “I wish Scully was here to see what a monster you’ve become.”

“I’m all she’ll have left.”

“Like hell!” Will said, lunging for the man, but finding himself alone in a forest. “ _Damn it!_ ”

He breathed heavily for the briefest of seconds before letting out a furious cry. It felt like he was allowing the beast within to roar, to announce its presence to the world; to let the world know that it was coming. A shockwave emanated from him, blowing away the trees in the surrounding woods.

Will panted angrily, the fury fueling him. His blood felt like it had been replaced by wrath. He was becoming the monster within; the monster in the form of a man.

War had been declared.

He was going to ride forth like a horseman of the apocalypse and kill the smoking son of a bitch; he would protect his family.

He had to.

Will walked through the city, ignoring the crowds as they scurried away from him. He could feel their fear, but he chose to ignore it. He wasn’t here for them. He had one purpose and he was untouchable; invincible.

He walked through the parked cars and down the bridge with only one mission: conquest.

A beacon emanating from the sky, likely on his destination. It was for him; he knew it.

 _“He needs stems cells in him right now,”_ a worried voice echoed, distantly in the back of Will’s mind.

_“Stem cells from who?”_

_“We have a child together. That child will be protected by his inheritance of my alien DNA.”_

_“Then-then we have to get to him.”_

_“I don’t know where he is.”_

Will recognized the worried voice but couldn’t place it. He wrestled with the beast for dominance, his need to know only slightly more powerful than the monster inside of him. Forcibly, pulling the reins on the beast, he allowed his humanity to come to the surface. A light shone down from the sky.

His heart thudded in his chest as he recognized the person whom it illuminated.

“Mom?"


End file.
